The ties that Bind - Sequel to In the Blood
by badflower
Summary: Just a few months on from their tumultuous first few months together, Tyra and Eric's relationship is picture perfect, and they couldn't be more content. However, the arrival of a new vampire monarch in Louisiana sparks a chain of events which lead to Tyra and Eric's idyllic lives being turned completely upside down, especially after another arrival from Norway. Please review.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! :D So yeah, I've definitely decided to go ahead with the sequel. I found my stride with writing it again (I did start three years ago, right off the back of the other, I just couldn't get it going at the time though) and began to enjoy it, so I intend as always to put in a lot of effort for your enjoyment! With this in mind, I don't think it's too much to ask that I get a review for each chapter posted, I'm not asking for essay length reviews if you haven't the time, but just a few words to let me know you've enjoyed it. For example, yesterday this chapter had 108 people read it, and only 3 reviewed it...come on! Feed your authors! We're like flowers, you know. We wilt without water, or in this case, encouragement and the simple courtesy to say, 'thank you, I'm enjoying this' if you are ;) Updates are likely to be twice/thrice weekly, and I shall post the second chapter later on this evening. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer - Only the OC's and plot of this story itself are of my own creation, the rest I fully acknowledge to be the property and creations of Ms Charlaine Harris, and the writers for HBO, and which I claim no creative credit over. This story is my own mere representation of the stories and characters within the Southern Vampire Mysteries/True Blood. **

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Chapter One

Tyra's POV

"Wow, I thought Bon Temps could get hot. It certainly has nothing on the heat here," I tell Eric as I look out into the hazy night, little lights twinkling in the distance across the arid landscape.

"Well you're the one who wanted to visit this flea pit," he snorts in reply, not looking particularly impressed. I've been prepared for this.

"We're sitting on the balcony of one of the most beautiful five star hotels in all of Marrakech, and you're still condemning Morocco as a flea pit?" I ask him, half amused, half incredulous.

"Yes, and I have good reason to as well. In 1736 I got set on fire here by an irate Arab vampire for defiling his progeny. It doesn't bring back enjoyable memories," he replies blandly, staring off into the distance and frowning. Oh, Eric. Only you.

"Eric, its 2010 and you're sitting here with me in the Hotel Es Saadi, drinking a glass of Tyra blood over ice after having been given a blow job that lasted the best part of an hour earlier, and you're still complaining? Shut up," I laugh casually, reaching for his hand and squeezing for his fingers.

"Excuse me for being a grumpy old vampire. I just don't like it here that much. The hotel is pleasant enough, but it's an overly hot and dirty country." he says. I love that about him, how he can hate something, compliment it and then hate it all over again virtually in the same breath. It's amusing. Morocco isn't the main destination of our New Year vacation, oh no. We flew to Australia on January 29th of this year, and stayed for a month. I loved it, it was amazing. Among other activities, we navigated our way through the outback in a jeep in the middle of the night, seeing animals gathered in groups at rest as we drove for miles around. We couldn't venture in too far though because of the amount of time it would take to get back out again, and the likelihood of getting lost and having nothing to protect Eric from the daylight.

We then went to France and stayed at the beautiful apartment Eric owns there in Paris, and then onto Norway to visit Agnes and also Nina, who is getting bigger by the day in her pregnancy. I joked to her that she must have two in there, one baby hiding behind the other. She agreed that is what it felt like. It was nice to spend some time with her, and time with Agnes again. Then just a week ago we travelled back down through Europe and from there to here, Morocco. It's now April 1st. To say our vacation has been slightly extended is an understatement. Neither of us has been in a rush to come home though, especially since all of our affairs are in perfect order.

Pam is handling the club well, and not lonely either since Eric's usual female devotees have turned their attentions onto her in his absence. 'Thanks for the pussy posse', she told him after we'd been away for only a week. To relax for this long, it's been heaven. Especially after the year I've just had. We've just had, actually, since Eric went through it all too. I cannot be neglectful of that. He told me I deserved to have some time off from life and just enjoy myself for a while. Being a vampire he can do this easily, he literally has all the time in the world. It's through being around him and seeing this kind of attitude that has rubbed off on the way I look at my life a little. It shouldn't all be about work. Tyra needs to play as well.

My business is still continuing to boom though with the help of Cobie. He's really sunk his teeth into his new job, proving to me how worthy he is of my employment on a constant basis. So much so that just after we left he informed me he was so busy he'd had to take on another member of staff. At first I was a little angry, feeling it not his place to do so since the business belongs to me and not him. That was until he reassured me that he hadn't hired a complete unknown. Esmeralda Solis, the beautiful Latino lady who lives just fifteen minutes from my home with her vampire lover Stanley, is my new employee. He made an excellent choice since Esmeralda is hardworking, honest, and a very lovely person to boot.

"Are you ready for your dinner yet, my precious?" Eric asks me thoughtfully, pulling me from my thoughts of home. I've been on nocturnal time for as much as our long vacation as I can, except when Eric has insisted I sleep through the night in order to see some of the places we've been to in daylight hours. Well, except for here in Morocco. He isn't keen on letting me out of his sight here, since blonde haired and blue eyed women are somewhat popular with the Moroccan locals, because of course they don't see women who look like me very often.

"I think I'm still nicely full after lunch, thank you. Plus this heat doesn't particularly invoke my appetite, quite the reverse. I would however settle for this," I tell him as I get up and walk around the small table we're sat at, and then climb onto his lap and curl up.

"You're using me as a cooling system again, aren't you? I feel cheapened, to return affection when that was not your intention, little Miss Boden," he replies, laughing softly and kissing my forehead.

"Ahhh, you got me," I joke, looking up and smiling at him before kissing his cool lips.

"So, other than sit here and shamelessly use my deadness to cool yourself down, what else would you like to do with the night?" He asks.

"Spend a large percentage of it naked," I reply innocently. Yet I feel the effect of my words almost instantly as Eric's dick begins to swell from the confides of the white linen pants he has on. I really, really didn't mean that to be a sexual connotation. No, seriously.

"What?" he asks innocently, when I stare between him and his bulge.

"I didn't mean for sexual purposes," I reply, shaking my head lightly.

"Well with you one can never truly tell. Not even me, and I perhaps know you better than anyone," he replies, which is a fair assumption. Eric knows everything about me. I have no secrets from him, other than embarrassing ones of situations past that I don't particularly want to share. I once indulged him of a tale which left my face red with shame even to recite, let alone experience. It took him ten minutes to stop laughing. Believe me that is a long, long time for a vampire as stoic as my beloved to laugh for. Also no, I shall not reveal the story to you. I'm not reliving that embarrassment twice in the same twelve months.

"For example, I'd really love to go and jump in that pool naked for one thing," I tell Eric, looking at the blue water four floors below with longing. It really is sweltering tonight.

"You'd be arrested though." He points out. Ahh, very true, very true I would be arrested. I made sure I purchased a decent swimming costume for this specific reason, and believe me I've gotten a few funny looks just for wearing that. The hotel staff assured me my attire was 'perfectly acceptable, Mrs Northman' as they themselves word it. Okay, stop gasping for breath in shock over there. Eric and I are not married, but we're in a country where sharing the same room, and essentially the same bed with a person you are not married to is heavily frowned upon and against the regulations of many hotels. So for the purposes of this trip, we are husband and wife. I will confess, I think being called Mrs Northman is sitting a hell of a lot better with me than it should, especially since Eric and I have never discussed marriage in any kind of serious way. Hell, with our bond it's like we're married already.

Agnes made a joke about it to make Eric squirm on our recent visit. 'You should marry the girl, Eric. She's ever so lovely, and you do look so handsome in a nice suit' she teased him with. Eric just sat there looking tense, while I tried and failed not to laugh at the look on his face. 'I want to be a bridesmaid!' Agnes then told him, playfully demanding through gritted teeth before chuckling some more. To be honest, I don't think he ever would, and for one very specific reason. Her name is Ida, and I think he'll forever treasure the memory of his first, last and only wife by not making me his current one. I don't mind that at all, I respect her memory very, very much. For instance when we went home I visited a Pagan church (well, their version of a church, it's more like a little temple) and lit a candle for her. I'm not religious, and neither is or was Eric, but she was devout to her gods. So yes, this is probably why I shouldn't like hearing myself referred to as Eric's wife as much as I secretly do.

"So this nakedness you speak of. Is it likely to commence any time soon?" Eric asks me. I answer by smiling at him and then sliding off his lap to walk back inside our suite.

"I'm naked…now," I then call to him, after pausing to completely drop my long, peacock feather print dress. Literally a second after the word passes my lips, I feel him stop behind me and reach to stroke my arms and turn me to face him.

"Now you're just copying me," I tell him after rolling my eyes, seeing that the pants he was wearing have been shed en route.

"Yes, but whereas your intentions to get naked are not sexual, mine are." He replies, before picking me up and walking me backwards until my back presses to the wall. Having sex against said hotel room wall seems to be what I'll be doing with this portion of the night it seems. It is also what we do with the remainder of our stay in the country as well. There isn't an awful lot to do in Morocco at night time, since they've only very recently declared themselves a family friendly nation. In other, much more heavily populated areas of the globe there are an abundance of activities you can engage in throughout the night if you're dead. Some stores remain open, and because vampires for the main part have human companions restaurants, bars, and other places of social interest are accessible too throughout the night and early hours of the morning.

Anyway, back to Morocco. Other than stroll the night markets or go through walks across the arid desert landscape there hasn't been much to do at night time. Because of this we end up leaving after five days. Eric reached his limit pretty quickly with the place, so we decided to finally head home. It's good to be back too, not that I haven't enjoyed my vacation massively, but you see there's these special things you have to leave behind when you go away, these things that you come to miss. These things are your friends.

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"I would say look what the cat dragged in, but since she's right here on my shoulder I kind of can't," my dear friend Lafayette greets me with when I arrive on his doorstep, the morning Eric and I arrive home. I left him in his travel casket at the club, with Deborah and me heaving the giant casket over to a quiet corner ready for him to wake at around 5pm when it will finally begin to get dark.

"It's so good to see you both," I reply, being welcomed into his arms with a kiss as I hug him with one arm, and my other hand fusses my beautiful cat, Poontang. I've missed them both so much.

"You too ice princess, you too! I'm gonna fix myself some eggs and biscuits, can I tempt you with a plate?" he asks me.

"Are you planning on frying up some bacon with that?" I ask him, greeting Poon when she dives off his shoulder and into my arms, purring with pleasure. Someone has missed mamma, that's for sure.

"I hadn't, but I can fry up a few rashers for my favourite Swede," he replies as I follow him through into the kitchen and head straight for his coffee machine. We have a deal whenever I come to eat. He cooks and I sort the beverages, whatever they may be dependent on time of day or night. Last time I was here for eats, I was the margarita mixer extraordinaire.

"Thank you." I tell him, while arranging my cat on my shoulder (she's definitely a shoulder cat) and going about preparing the coffee. I fill him in on my vacation, not sparing any detail. Well, except the details that allude to how much sex Eric and I enjoyed while we were away. He doesn't need to hear that, as he isn't keen on Eric. He likes the fact that my lover treats me like a queen, but he has his own issues with my boyfriend that prevents him from being anything but moderately warm when in his company. Eric is just the same with Lafayette, even though I know full well that because his association with me, Eric does keep a watchful eye over him. Not in a sinister way either, just because he knows he's someone very special to me. Him and his boyfriend, Jesus, they've both quickly become two of my closest friends.

"We have a little gift for you too, and you need to thank Eric more than you do me, since he's the one who smuggled this into the country in his casket," I then tell my friend, going to where I put my bag down in the lounge and returning with a sparkly bag of Moroccan kif that makes Lafayette's eyes light up like light houses.

"Oh mother Mary, she got me kif! Tyra, I love you!" he exclaims before planting a large kiss on my cheek and gratefully accepting the bag I hold out to him. What kif is essentially is the active ingredient in cannabis. If you smoke and you're near to your stash right now go and pull out a bud from your baggie and hold it up to the light. Do you see all those little sparkly crystals it's covered in? Those are THC, and those are what get you high. Kif is solely those crystals, and the bag I just gave to Lafayette contains enough to have put myself and Eric in jail for a maximum of fifteen years, had it been discovered. They do not check vampire coffins at customs though, so that is not the only thing we managed to sneak back that we shouldn't have. Eric is usually quite law abiding, this isn't the kind of thing he engages in all the time I must hasten to add. He took a hell of a lot of talking around too, but I managed it.

"You go roll yourself a smoke then, big poppa, give yourself a nice appetite for the food you're about to cook," I reply, turning to see he's already headed straight to his stash box in the lounge, laughing when I see he has his cigarette papers already there in his hand. Eager just isn't the word.

"I'll only do myself a little one, save you having to deal with a stoned Lafayette at ten in the a-m." He replies, while I go back into the kitchen to pour the coffees. After eating breakfast and engaging in chatter mostly about my vacation (but not in too much detail, as he's invited me for dinner on Friday night so I can regale Jesus about my travels too) I bid him goodbye and head back on over to my house across the way laden with my cat's bed and belongings. Since today is Sunday I have no Esmeralda or Cobie at my house working away, so it's just me and the cat. Or so I think…

"Hey! I saw your car in the drive and thought I'd stop in and catch up, if that's okay? Sweetie I was beginning to worry until I called Pam up and discovered you and Eric decided to extend your vacation," a bright and cheerful Sookie Stackhouse says to me after opening the door to her knock. I smile and let her in, not entirely happy to have my peace interrupted but happy to see the cause. I've grown a bit of a soft spot for Sookie, and I see her in a very different light to the one I formerly did having gotten to know her a little better. We get on well, which is surprising for two people so different, but it's happened.

"We did. We decided the initial month in Australia just wasn't long enough, considering all the trials and tribulations of last year we just wanted to relax for longer," I tell her, shutting the door and heading into the kitchen. I feel like I need another coffee already, to counteract the jetlag I'm likely to begin feeling over the next couple of hours.

"I can't say I blame either of you. Especially when I think of all that's been going on here," she says, adding 'tea please,' when I point at the kettle in question.

"Yeah, we heard. Yikes. You'd think things would be more settled down now, after the new formation of the AVL and also since they are handling things so well." I reply. I reference of course the shift in the way vampire politics are now run. The AVL has now had the corruption taken out of it, and just to be sure none of them are any the wiser over what I am too. The only confession Eric handed to the police last year about the AVL was what happened with their treatment of Russell, which in itself was enough to make them and their precious authority crumble. What he dished out to Nan Flanagan was personal punishment for her hand in what happened to me, and that was enough for us both. At the time Agnes said she thought it best that only the people who currently know what I am should know, and no more. Eric and I agreed, of course. My identity as Wolverina is still the closely guarded secret it always was.

I have to say the new vampires appointed to the AVL helm so far have done excellent work for mending the bridges between humans and vampires, the menace that was Russell Edgington still fresh in their minds. Because of this renewed alliance things have started to mend themselves, but not in the minds of some. The Fellowship of the Sun still likes to cause trouble. They thought the fall of the AVL would mean the fall of vampire rights as well. How wrong they were.

"I guess there's always going to be people out there who aren't tolerant. They're just the same as the KKK if you ask me. Violently and hatefully discriminative," Sookie replies.

"And they have the nerve to call themselves Christians as well. What they practice sure doesn't seem Christian to me," I mutter in reply while frowning. They (the FotS) had begun to picket Fangtasia a few days before Eric and I left. Not that it disturbed business though. Picketing is just the tip of the iceberg. If Eric hadn't scared them so terribly when they threw a petrol bomb at the front of the club (luckily it was poorly made, and able to be dampened with an extinguisher) they'd still be trying as best they could to vandalise the place. Pam told me she's had to get someone to paint the front over the graffiti six times now. That's not to say other vampires and their associates are not suffering, vampires who are not as menacing as Eric for one thing. Also, most do not have the financial back up to repaint over graffiti, or hire bodyguards to escort staff to and from their place of work like Eric has been able to. Well, for the three human employees at least. Ginger, Deborah and Mai Ling have all been subject to serious harassment, and followed home. Mai Ling was almost run off the road a few weeks ago apparently.

With all this happening, I almost feel guilty for my life being so picture perfect as it is. I deserve it though. I've worked hard all my life and because of it (and the luck of employing someone as industrious as Cobie) my business is now flourishing, so that is something to enjoy. Also, the last year of turmoil I went through with Eric (although he is of course forgiven) and everything else that tied in with that, I feel I should enjoy my peachy life for once. I voice this to Sookie, who more than agrees with me.

"You absolutely should not feel guilty, Tyra. No way, not after everything you've been through. Does it still feel strange, not having to look over your shoulder?" she asks me.

"Strange but good, knowing the only vampire that is about to pop up and scare me is Eric. He has a habit of doing that without meaning to," I reply, thinking of the many instances when he has, and half smiling to myself as I prepare our drinks.

"Speaking of Eric, how are things with you both?" she then asks friendlily.

"Things are going perfectly, thank you for asking. He makes me a very happy woman," I reply, this time my smile broadening more as I turn to hand Sookie her tea, and notice the smile she mirrors is very much genuine. She honestly is pleased for me. Even though I'm not the telepath here, I can tell loud and clear her true feelings are what's reflected in her smile.

"He's needed someone like you, I think. I don't want to stand here and second guess your boyfriend or anything, but I think on some level he was lonely before you came along," she tells me, while I nod.

"That's a fair assumption, Sook. He's never told me in as many words, but I do believe you're correct. I feel very special, knowing that I'm the only woman in all of his vampire eternity he's ever wanted to become this close to," I reply before blowing my coffee and taking a very careful sip.

"You're definitely one in a million. Pam told me as much, we actually had a little chat on the telephone. She told me she missed you, and for her to ever miss a human then that human must be one in a million, even though you're not totally human. I think so because I never thought I'd meet the human version of Eric. Well, you're a lot less intimidating and friendlier of course," she replies, tucking her hair behind her ear as she leans back against my sink. I laugh gently at her observance before answering.

"That's sweet of you to say so, sweet of my Pammie too. By the way, never call her Pammie to her face, or she'll remove yours as punishment," I reply, watching Sookie's eyes widen a little. "As for your comment about me being the human equivalent of Eric, I guess you're right. We are very similar." I then add

"By the way, did any of y'all tell Fabien where I live? He's been showing up. A lot," Sookie replies, her cheery expression being replaced for one that appears to be mildly disgruntled. How anyone could be disgruntled with a vampire as handsome as Fabien showing them interest is beyond me. He's very, very attractive, with his waist length black hair and chiselled features. He's from Mohawk descent, but you wouldn't really notice from a first glance. He's as white as a sheet in colour (and he would have been if he were still living). It's the hair and the almost black eyes that make you realise the heritage. I've seen him shirtless too, and there's a very nice body behind the usual open shirt and t shirt beneath, jeans and military boots combo. He looks like a grunge fan. As for his personality, he isn't as dark as some vampires, he is quite friendly. But he's naughty. Very naughty, so I can only imagine the things he's been saying to Sookie when turning up on her doorstep. This poor girl here has had enough stress from vampires to last her a lifetime, so I very much doubt she'll ever unthaw the freeze she's put on Fabien and his charms.

"Nope, he's probably tailed you going home though. I wouldn't put it past him. So, have you ever let him in on those nights he's visited?" I ask her.

"No, never" she begins, shaking her head strongly. "I've spoken to him on the porch, mainly to tell him to go away. He doesn't listen though." She then adds, words I have absolutely no trouble believing.

"Hell, he was only nineteen when he was made. He still has that stubborn, petulant youth thing going for him, even though he's close to five hundred and fifty years old. So what do you talk about, or is it that obvious I can guess?" I ask and tell her, watching her change her head movement this time to a gentle nod.

"Mostly it's been to listen to his vulgarity, which has made me head straight back indoors! Honestly Tyra, the things he comes out with! I'm not a prude, but oh Jesus, he's more filth than I've ever encountered!" she replies, her cheeks flushing pink as she remembers, obviously.

"I can believe he comes out with some filth, I know him quite well now. So what exactly did he say to you?" I ask, curious to know which words tinged Sookie's cheeks to that particular hue of pink as she remembered them.

"I, I don't even think I can say it out loud. I'd be too embarrassed!" she whispers, cringing a little.

"Come on, it's just me. Eric has probably whispered things a thousand times worse into my ear at some point or another," I reassure her. She looks tense, biting her bottom lip and holding her breath before letting it out in a long huff. She then smiles slightly.

"Okay. He told me, and these are his words not mine, that he wanted to tongue fuck me until I didn't know if I was about to reach orgasm or die. Bill certainly never said anything like that to me!" she exclaims, giggling while I just laugh. Oh yes, Eric has told me much, much worse. All of it excited me though.

"Sookie Stackhouse, you're giggling like a school girl! You liked it, what he said, didn't you?" I charge her with after composing myself.

"I did not!" She shouts, aghast.

"Oh come off it, you did. Who wouldn't? Fabien is a handsome vampire. Sounds tempting if you ask me," I reply, raising my eyebrows and taking a sip of my coffee, while Sookie giggles again in a shocked way. Her mouth then flies open in exclamation as she reaches out and smacks my arm lightly.

"You're so bad," she tells me.

"I'm not. I'm truthful. You should take him up on his offer; he's really not that bad once you get to know him. He's just saying things like that to shock you, and because where sex is concerned he's blunt as a spoon. Otherwise, he's very interesting. You could even call him nice I suppose, for a vampire that is. He's very funny too. He's one of the few who can make Eric laugh," I reply, watching her look like someone just dropped a smelly corpse at her feet, her nose crinkled up. "You need to get over Bill properly, and you know exactly what I mean by that." I then add with a wink.

"Perhaps you're right, but it won't be with Fabien. Oh no. I think I've had my lot with vampires," she replies, finishing her tea. "I do appreciate your efforts though, to find me a source of 'I'm getting over my ex sex'." she then adds, making me laugh. She leaves pretty soon after, heading off to church to help out at some parish fete, not before telling me she hopes to see me soon. I wave her goodbye and then head back inside to unpack, separating lights from darks before putting the first load into the washing machine. After that I fix myself a bowl of microwave rice and sit down to begin reading through three months-worth of mail. I told Cobie to open anything that looked legal or important and transcribe it through email to me while I was away, but nothing important ever ended up in the mailbox by the look of things. Most of it is junk mail, catalogues trying to attract my business because I brought an underwear set online three years ago (they keep you on their mailing lists forever , don't they?) and by the time I'm at the end I feel like not concentrating, so turn on the TV. I flick through to one of the very channels of interest to me, and settle into watching the documentary on wildlife in the Australian bush. How coincidental.

The runtime is an hour and a half, and when it finishes at just gone 3pm I feel the jetlag that I've been trying to ignore about to totally catch up with me. I didn't sleep on the plane when I probably should have, and the plumpness of the big cushion to my side looks so inviting to my wearing head right now. As soon as I rest it there, sleep commences in three…two…one…gone. I wake up six hours later, to a welcome presence in my armchair. Eric, sitting with Poon on his lap all curled up, reading one of my biographies. The one he chose was written about Napoleon.

"I thought I'd leave you to sleep. I took the liberty of picking you up something to eat, guessing you'd fallen asleep when you didn't answer your phone the three times I tried to call you. It's in the kitchen," he tells me, only looking away from the page he's reading for a flicker of a second before his eyes fall upon it again.

"I really appreciate that, thank you." I tell him, getting up and stretching with a yawn. I then walk over to him and kiss his forehead, him moving his head to kiss my cheek twice before I head to the kitchen to eat. He was good enough to pick me up some dinner on his way over the least I can do is eat it in here so he doesn't have to smell it any more strongly than he presently can. After ten minutes of eating my chicken, broccoli and noodles (I love how he remembers these things, when food has no relevance to him whatsoever) I look up to see I'm no longer alone.

"I apologise in advance, but I think you're going to lose me to this book for a few hours," Eric tells me, standing in the kitchen doorway with Poon balancing on his shoulder.

"You enjoy, I need a good soak in the bath anyway," I reply, reaching out and stroking his hard stomach. I finish eating while he wanders back to the lounge, and after I'm done and the plate I served my meal on is washed I head straight for the bathroom. It turns out that I don't lose Eric for very long though, since he enters the bathroom and sits on the floor leaning back against the bath after about twenty five minutes. He continues to read quietly, while I reach over the side of the bath and idly stroke his shoulder. Separate togetherness and blissful relaxation. Perfect. Our relationship really is floating on a peaceful sea, and so it deserves to after the year we've had. We need this tranquillity more than anyone. It's a shame that it doesn't last though, a shame that once again trouble will begin to stir the water beneath. Little is either of us to know at the moment that drastic change for the both of us, and for our relationship, is just around the corner.


	2. Chapter 2

**A big thank you to shereelouise60, AxidentlGoddess and auroraglider for your reviews of the first chapter :) I truly do hope to gain a few more reviewing readers as the chapters increase. Well, here we go then, chapter two as promised. I look forward to your thoughts. **

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Eric's POV

"Half past five and still she sleeps on." I say quietly after waking and seeing Tyra still asleep beside me. After she'd bathed and finished tying up loose ends at her place we drove back here to mine at around 1am, and she stayed up catching up with Pam until around five this morning. She then sat and loaded six memory cards worth of photographs from our lengthy vacation onto her laptop for an hour, so it's little wonder she's tired. Getting up carefully so as not to wake her, I first head into the kitchen area of my home and check that the cat has enough fresh water, finding that she doesn't. After topping up the bowl I provide her a small handful of dried cat food, and watch her come running from her spot on the couch as soon as I put her plate down.

I've never minded animals, but I never thought it'd become my routine to care for one in this way on occasion. I became used to it when Tyra was kidnapped; it became one of the routines that prevented me from going insane from being parted from her. I also never expected to devote myself to a woman in the way I have Tyra either. It was a huge conflict at first, but now it feels very easy. We're incredibly well suited after all, and utterly besotted with each other. Pam is correct when she states Tyra is the human, female version of me. In her own right though, she is someone very deserving of my affections, and I at long last hers after initially being anything but deserving of them. Although I've always enjoyed my life after death very much, I cannot deny I enjoy it even more with Tyra by my side.

By her side is where I suddenly fly to, after leaving the shower I've entered quickly after feeling distress flare within her. Stopping and sitting on the edge of the bed my suspicion over what I felt is confirmed as I see she's restless in her sleep. She's had occasional nightmares over what happened to her ever since she was taken from me. They only trouble her for a few moments after she wakes though, immediately soothed when she feels the relief of knowing it isn't real. I look down at her and stroke her head until she wakes, not wanting to shake her awake. You shouldn't do that to someone who is dreaming. She omits a little groan and then her eyes fly open, looking puzzled and scared for a few moments before she focuses on me and smiles.

"Just a dream," I tell her, watching her nod as I lean down and kiss her forehead.

"I hate that I'm over it when I'm awake, but it still gets to me in my sleep," she says, sitting up and then clearing her throat.

"Dreams cannot be controlled without a lot of practice," I inform her.

"A person can control their dreams?" she asks.

"Yes. Come and get in the shower with me now, and I'll tell you all about it." I offer, to which she takes my hand and follows me back into the bathroom and under the hot jet of water I left running. While she washes her hair, and I wash the rest of her, I tell her all about the practice known as lucid dreaming. It has no effect on me even though I can still dream, my brainwaves when I'm at rest are not strong enough for me to do that (being dead of course) but Tyra can.

It's at times like these I'm glad I'm as learned as I am. I enjoy being able to share that knowledge with her, even though again in her own right she is extremely intelligent. It's one of the things I like the most about her, this astounding woman I have come to genuinely love, regardless of the blood bond I have with her. My love for her was in place before, I know this. After we've dried and dressed we head upstairs to find Pam. It turns out though, Pam finds us first.

"We need to go to the office, now," she tells us, pointing at the door of it as she carries on walking past us. We turn and follow her, and as soon as we're inside the vicinity of said office, Pam gets right to the point.

"Sophie Anne is dead," she plainly states, folding her arms as I walk around my desk and sit down, Tyra perching her splendid form on the opposing corner.

"How and when?" I ask, not particularly grieved that the queen of Louisiana is dead, but curious to know the details of course.

"I wasn't given a whole lot of information, but Helen Carmine from the AVL will be arriving here in half an hour to speak with you about it. Her secretary would tell me no more, and wouldn't allow me to call you to the phone." Pam informs me.

"Dear Sophie Anne, she will be missed," I then say sarcastically, not able to bite back the smile that spreads to my face when I hear Tyra snort with laughter momentarily. She knows the former queen of Louisiana is no friend of mine. I'm actually quite glad the scheming little bitch has met her true death. She was nothing but a thorn in my side. Little am I to know now, but in twenty four hours from now I'll be wishing, praying even for the resurrection of Sophie Anne.

"So, our first meeting with a post-Edgington AVL," I say to Tyra, after Pam has excused herself to return to the front doors.

"You want me to be there too?" she asks me, turning to look at me.

"Yes. Of course, both you and Pam," I tell her, reaching for her hand and bringing it to my mouth to kiss. "I've told you before I consider you my equal, and because of that status you have in my eyes, I don't want you left in the dark over matters such as these. It's important for you, to be well informed." I then add, while she smiles faintly at me, looking a little surprised.

"This time last year, I'd have never thought I'd hear the following words leave my lips. You make me feel remarkably respected, Eric. I really do like that," she tells me before turning around and moving toward me in an almost feline way, crawling across the desk and resting her hands at the edge in front of me. After that, I receive a very big kiss.

"How long did Pam say until Helen Carmine arrives?" I ask her, watching as she trails a finger around the neckline of my t shirt.

"A half hour." she replies, her finger now running down the centre of my chest.

"Stay right where you are." Before she knows it, I've shot out of my seat, locked the office door and crouched behind her to pull her underwear off underneath the long grey dress she's wearing. After sliding said long grey dress up until it bunches at her waist, I have a very clear view of where my mouth is about to busy itself until my impromptu meeting with the AVL representative.

Twenty nine minutes exactly later, and we're sitting opposite Helen Carmine. It makes me smirk slightly when I notice Tyra's chest is still rising and falling a little heavily, with her cheeks flushed pink with post orgasmic glow. Helen neither asks nor cares who Tyra is, much like Pam did earlier she gets straight to the point of her visit. She's an attractive vampire, of Italian descent with a crisp New Jersey accent. I estimate she was about twenty three when she was made, and has roughly three hundred years on that now. I'm good at guessing the age of my kind, sensing it even.

"I'll get right to the point, Mr Northman. As your associate here will have told you, the queen Sophie Anne Leclerq met her true death last night. It was a tragic accident. She died at home after a rotten tree had a substantial sized branch break off and crash through the window. Unfortunately, a piece of that wood went straight through the queen too. Her remains were found this morning by her human staff," Helen begins efficiently, yet sounding genuinely moved by the death of the queen at times as she spoke.

"She was newly married before her death, so the state will not be without a royal for long. For legal reasons right now, and because the acceptance and boundaries for taking on Louisiana are still being negotiated with the new king and his party, I cannot disclose his identity. But what I can do is fly him here to meet with you, should the deal go through smoothly. He will personally want to meet the sheriff of each area, of course," she then continues.

"I'd appreciate to be kept fully informed over this, and yes, it'd be a pleasure to receive the new king in due course, providing this deal you speak of goes through," I tell her, watching her stand and take a business card from her pocket.

"My secretary and my direct office line, if all goes as planned I'd obviously like you to close the club to meet with the king here. Let me know the loss of takings that will incur, and I'll inform my secretary to write you a check. Good evening, Mr Northman, ladies." is the exit speech Helen Carmine uses.

"Well, that was all very cloak and dagger. It must be someone who takes the job seriously if he's negotiating on territory that's his anyway," Pam says as she stands from her seat.

"It sounds like he's negotiating for more than just the state regency, or why would he dwindle on the official claim to the title? Smart move if you ask me," I reply, while I begin idly stroking Tyra's arm. I close my eyes for a moment, feeling her energy still sexually sparking strongly. This is something I've not yet managed to resist since we've been bonded, and I let it pull me in for a few moments before I become alert again.

"I guess we'll have to play the waiting game for now then. I'll see you both later at some point, no doubt." Pam drawls, blowing Tyra a little air kiss before she leaves the office.

"Interesting," Tyra says.

"Very," I reply, standing up and taking her hand to lead her out into the club to get her a drink before we head back downstairs.

"He's obviously very savvy if he's negotiating further deals over control of the state. Do you have any idea who it could be? I didn't even know she'd married," she replies, sitting down on one of my big couches while I sit opposite her.

"I did not know she'd married either, and also I don't think that was a commonly known fact, since if it was Pam would have told me while we were on vacation. Oh, I've no idea at all who the new king is either, unfortunately," I reply. "Although I do find it suspicious that she was wed and dead in such a short space of time. I'm not entirely sure I buy the story of her death being accidental." I then add in afterthought.

"Do you think the new king, whoever he is, had her killed and set it up to look like a tragic accident to gain control of the state?" Tyra asks. Her mind is of course razor sharp as ever.

"That is exactly what I think he's done. Helen Carmine laid it on way too thick. Even though I do believe she was genuinely unhappy over the queen's passing, I do think she does not believe it was an accident either, regardless of the evidence presented to the contrary. Said evidence must have been substantial if he was responsible, because no charges have been pressed against him for murder." I say, thinking aloud more than anything now. In any normal situation, say if Sophie Anne was not betrothed at the time of her death, the regency of the state would then fall into the lap of the next strongest and most affluent vampire. In this case me. However, I have made it noted before that I have absolutely no desire to become the king of Louisiana.

Becoming vampire regent of your state puts you up on the kind of pedestal I have no desire to stand upon. For many reasons, reason number one being it gives you little room to have much of an existence of your own. It strips your privacy, and holds your finances under a microscope. Being a discreet and secretive vampire is one of the reasons I have come so far, and stand out from the rest in a lot of respects. I am not prepared to have that kissed goodbye.

Being king also leaves you far more open to attack, and with Tyra's safety a paramount concern with me always now, because of what she is, I just would not have accepted if the title had been handed to me. Any consort of a vampire has a price tag upon their head, as it is the fastest way we can be got to. The same is said for our vampire children. Any consort of a king or queen becomes even more of a prize target for attack.

"She didn't mention my position of sheriff was under threat, I was glad to note. Usually in state takeovers by another regent they like to bring vampires from their own team in. This kind of exercise causes upheaval, I witnessed it in that period I lived in Miami in the mid 1800's. It shows efficiency on the new kings behalf that he wants to leave the hierarchy intact," I reply, while Tyra nods.

"When you put it like that, I suppose it does, yes," she replies before sipping her wine. Just then, we're interrupted by Pam.

"Tyra, you have a delivery. From Morocco!" she announces to my lady, while I watch both females look a tad excited at that news.

"Sorry, you're going to have to lose me for a little while. I need to sort through all of this." she tells me, getting up off the couch and giving me a kiss en route to the door.

"You enjoy." I say before she closes the door behind her. While we were in Morocco, Tyra shopped. Then, she shopped some more, and shopped a bit more after that too.

To be precise, she brought half of the contents of the Marrakesh open air markets and then to avoid the exorbitant charges for overloaded luggage, decided to send most of what she'd brought back here by Fed-Ex. It cost her about three hundred dollars to do that, which is not bad when you take into consideration just how much she brought. While she's busy fawning over what she brought I take the opportunity to make a phone call, to someone who is going to be tasked with putting his ear to the ground very shortly.

"Ahhh, the wanderer returns," Fabien says, answering his cell on the ninth ring. The giggling female in the background alerts me to the fact he's not alone.

"Lose your play toy for the rest of the night, Fabien; you've got work to do. I want you to find out as much information as you can on the recent marriage of Sophie Anne Leclerq, and also her true death. Put your ear to the ground, I don't buy the reason for her demise on what the AVL have been told for one minute." I tell him.

"I'm on it right away, I'll stop by as soon as I know anything, hopefully that'll be before sunrise." He replies before hanging up. The more information I can gather about this situation, the better. I'm not prepared to wait until the king, whoever he is arrives here. I want to know as much as I can, as soon as I can. Yet when Fabien gets here four hours later, I know what he's going to say before he sits his tall form down opposite me.

"Nothing," he laments, frowning heavily.

"You of course asked amongst all the usual circles?" I question.

"Of course I did, Eric. I'm not incompetent. Whoever this new king is, and whatever terms he's negotiating, and whether it was him responsible for the demise of Sophie Anne, all information is on lockdown," he replies, giving me a slight glare.

"Okay, I accept the details are being well hidden then if you could not find them," I reply with a nod. Fabien's frown vanishes after that.

"Whoever he is, he's keeping his cards close to his chest. Anyway, how was your vacation?" he says.

"Pleasant, and relaxing also. It was enjoyable not to have anything other than feeding and fucking to worry about," I reply, watching the corners of Fabien's mouth twitch into a smile, and a deep laugh rumble out of his throat.

"I can imagine it was," he replies.

"I'd rather you didn't," I reply, making him laugh once again.

"I've left an attractive woman in my bed, excuse me but now my work is done for you I'd like to get back to her." He then tells me as he stands.

"If there's still no news by sundown tomorrow, cast your search net further." I tell him before he leaves. As ever, it is of imperative importance that I try to remain one step ahead of everyone else, the AVL, kings, queens, whoever. Yes, you're absolutely correct; I do have a problem with authority. I have a problem with not knowing enough about them.

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Tyra's POV

"I just cannot believe the quality of these silks, and the price you got them for!" Pam exclaims as once again she goes through the fabrics I brought out in Morocco and had sent back. I got beautiful coloured silks for the equivalent of twenty dollars a metre. That's crazy cheap. I even chose a few colours for myself, since Pam has offered multiple times to make some items of clothing for me.

I didn't just have fabric sent back, oh no. Small carvings and statues, one big iron candelabra I couldn't resist, wooden vases, herbs and spices (that I intend for Lafayette since I hardly cook), jewellery and other little bits and pieces were all boxed up and sent home. I did the same with things I purchased from Australia, which arrived back here two months ago now. I still have those to sort through. Needless to say, my bank balance and credit card are both suffering at present.

"I look forward to seeing what you can create with them," I reply to my friend as I pack away everything I excitedly pulled from the boxes like a kid at Christmas, ready to transport up to my car before I head to bed later this morning.

"So, I want to see these photographs you took in Australia and I want to see them now. I've always wanted to visit, for so many years." Pam replies as she pats the space on the couch next to her, and picks up my laptop that I went and retrieved from Eric's apartment about half an hour ago. I saw Fabien on my way out of there. I wonder if he's still talking to Eric, or off harassing poor Sookie again? I get myself up from my cross legged spot on the floor and sit down next to her, leaning over and finding the file full of photographs, and flicking the folder marked (funnily enough) Australia.

"Hell on high heels, Tyra! Is that a real crocodile?" Pam exclaims when she sees the first picture of me sitting on an adult crocodile's back, my hands on his head.

"Yes, and he isn't stuffed either. But notice his jaws are taped up so it was just the claws and tail I had to watch out for. If they strike you hard enough, their tail can break your bones," I tell her, watching her widen her eyes a little and then look back at the picture, and click to the next.

"Now that's just being silly," she snorts, witnessing a picture of me taken as I had a go at croc wrestling. They let me have (under heavy supervision) a little ruck with a baby croc, since I was so enthusiastic to try it out. The croc I'm lying with my arms and legs locked around in the picture was eleven months old and about four feet in length. He was still a strong beast though, despite him being virtually a baby. I was tired after ten minutes of pitting my strength and wits against his, even though at every step of the way, Paul, Richie and Des, were all telling me exactly what to do.

"Pam, you're not a worrier or someone who isn't intrigued by danger either," I comment, moving on to the next pictures, of me doing the same thing under floodlights at night. Eric didn't believe me when I told him what I'd done, so after calling and arranging it with the nice guys who owned the crocodile sanctuary (Des living there on the property) we arranged to go back that evening.

"I am with you," she says, patting my hand and smiling and looking very un-Pam for a few moments. She can be very tender when she wants to be, when it's with someone she cares about. Admittedly, that only really extends to me and Eric, but still…

"That one there was the biggest, and the meanest. His name was Satan, and he was sixteen feet long, and weighed about two thousand pounds. He can't be released into the wild because he's missing an eye, that's why he's there," I tell her as she flicks through the pictures taken from various angles of the huge reptile. She then bursts out laughing when she gets to the one of him and Eric.

"How predictable, he has to find the biggest and most pissed off one there and prove to it he's superior." Pam laughs as she looks at a picture of Eric holding Satan's jaws between his hands and kissing his nose. The noises that crocodile made at him as he was doing that were frightening, but in the end something so amazing happened in that pen. Satan of course tried to attack Eric as soon as he stood in there with him. It was only because he was a vampire that the guys agreed he could go in there in the first place, and because of that fact after a while the croc began to calm down.

'Eric mate, I reckon he's confused as hell because he's never met anything a rung above him in the food chain. Look at him, trying to work you out.' Paul shouted over the fence at the time, as Satan stood low, staring and hissing at Eric as he moved closer to him. I remember the scene like a video playing in my head, and narrate the whole thing for Pam when I do actually locate a video clip of it I took on the camcorder. Sadly because I fucked up, there's no sound in the clip. It does show the end result of Satan realising he couldn't get one up on Eric though.

'I need pictures of this to show me wife! The old girl will never believe me otherwise, Jesus Christ would you bloody look at him! Sitting like a lamb, he is!' Richie exclaimed as he took a photograph of Eric sitting on Satan's back scratching his head, the croc sitting there as happily as a gargantuan, agitated crocodile with a vampire on his back can be. I narrate that part for Pam too.

"You Swedish, you're all crazy," she says, flicking through the photographs some more and landing on the ones of me doing a bungee jump of a huge bridge. I did spend a few days here and there going off on my own exploring in the various areas of Australia we travelled to. I have six hundred pictures from that beautiful country alone. I took the liberty of buying massive photo memory cards before we went away.

"I had to do that, to get me over my slight fear of heights. That bridge is three hundred feet high so I think it did the job nicely. I was more scared of jumping off that than I was of the crocodiles," I inform her as she continues to flick through the pictures.

"Of course, you're more than used to handling large, temperamental beasts with a taste for human blood." she chirps, making me laugh softly. It's so good to be home, catching up with the people I've missed. It's a shame that under twenty four hours from now, I'll be wishing Eric and I are far away from here.


	3. Chapter 3

**I hope this chapter gets the ball rolling a little, and encourages a few of you to leave a review. Last update for the week, I hope you all enjoy it. **

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Tyra's POV

"How long have you been up for?" Eric asks me at five in the afternoon on Wednesday, just after I heard him stir in bed. I enjoy the feeling of his arms around me and his lips kissing the side of my neck before I answer.

"Since two or thereabouts, I headed out and got all my files from Cobie, then told him and Esmeralda to take the rest of the day off. They've worked hard enough," I reply, picking up the tea in front of me on the table and taking a sip.

"I see you've no problems with sliding back into it with your usual gusto," he then comments, moving at speed and then returning to sit next to me fully dressed a minute later. His chosen attire consists of a deep grey suit with a white shirt.

"You know I love my work," I reply, finishing the last calculation on the current spread sheet and then closing the file titled 'Westfield Timber'. Guess what the fruit of their trade is?

"I had a message on my cell when I awoke. We'll be meeting the new king at 7pm upstairs, negotiations having all gone through just before daybreak this morning," Eric then tells me, thus explaining his smart attire. I can feel within myself how he feels about it. Mostly right now he just wants it all over with and to discover the identity of the new king, which I can feel through his feelings of impatience.

"Relax, have patience," I tell him, resting my hand on his thigh and giving it a squeeze.

"I'm trying darling, I truly am. You know how much it pisses me off though, to be kept waiting," he replies, his hand covering mine for a moment.

"I do, but you've only two hours to wait now," I remind him, turning to smile at him. He looks absolutely mouth-watering tonight, he really does. He might be the vampire, but I could sure sink my teeth into him right now.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks me keenly, obviously picking up on that little spark of lust that just ignited within me.

"Things that can wait until the visit from the king is over, are what I'm thinking about," I tell him, shutting my laptop and standing. I then bend the not too far distance (Eric is unfeasibly tall after all) to kiss him before heading to the bathroom.

"I didn't say you could escape that quickly, after speaking a sentence to me with such heavy connotations," Eric tells me, appearing behind me as I begin to reapply my makeup. Immediately, I'm swathed in two big arms once more.

"You just got dressed, and I need to go out and get something to eat, drop my dry cleaning off before the store closes and then get back here and change my clothes. I think an electric blue sun dress is a little too casual for the company of a king," I tell Eric as I fight him off, poking him in the chest with my nails before turning back to the mirror.

"I reluctantly agree to leave you alone, for now at least." He replies, kissing my shoulder and leaving me in peace. I decide to leave my eyes bare after powdering my face, undecided on what I'm wearing later and wanting the colours of my clothes and eyeshadow not to clash of course. After that I kiss Eric goodbye and head out into the club.

"Hey Tyra, you wanna come get something to eat?" Ginger shouts at me from the door she just walked through.

"You must've read my mind! I'm on my way to do just that. Do you mind if I swing by the dry cleaners too?" I reply as I walk to where she's paused by the door. Ginger is a sweet woman in her own way, but not the sharpest knife in the draw by any means. I knew that as soon as I began working here just over a year ago, but I also knew as I do know now that her heart is and always will be in the right place.

"Nah, I don't gotta start for like, a half hour anyways," Ginger replies with a wave of her hand before we exit the club and head to my car. Fangtasia barmaid Mai Ling beeps the horn of her little Jeep as she enters the small parking area and drives past us with a little wave of her hand.

"It looks nice, with no vamp protestors," Ginger comments, looking all around as we reach my car.

"Yeah, it's a shame it won't look like this when we get back." I reply as I open the doors and we climb in. The chanting mob usually shows up at about five thirty to harass the staff, hence why today they all came in half an hour early on Pam's say so.

Sure enough, after I've dropped my suit and jacket and a winter coat off at the dry cleaners, brought a pastrami sub roll and fries (the fries are ate en route) and driven Ginger to the fried chicken takeout we head back and sure enough, find the brainwashed waiting there about fifteen feet from the entrance, harassing people from the sidewalk. Since Eric owns the frontage where the cars park and people queue up to enter the club they cannot set foot onto the property itself. Not after Eric terrified them half to death. That doesn't stop them shouting though.

"Dirty fucking vampire whores!"

"Bitches!"

"You'll both burn in hell!" and so the shouts go as Ginger and I share eye rolls between each other. How predictable these idiots are in their taunts. Why do they even think words will work? Are they seriously that stupid that they honestly think they have an effect upon our choices? Ahh, you just answered your own question there, Tyra. Yep, the words I can handle. Having objects hurled at the back of my head on the other hand, tends to rouse my temper.

"Holy shit, how fast did you just turn around then?" Ginger exclaims at first when I whirl around a little unnaturally quickly.

"Eric blood," I say in explanation and she nods before looking down at the ground, working out the reason to my fury as she sees the stone that just hit me on the back of the head.

"Tyra no honey, no…," Ginger squeaks at me as I begin to stomp over, softly shrugging her hand off my shoulder when she tries to halt me from storming over to the one girl with her hand still extended. She looks like she regrets what she just did more and more with each step I take, but still lifts her chin to me in a defiant way.

"Throwing stones huh? How fucking infantile, and how fucking dare you. You self-righteous, opinionated, brainwashed little god bothering asshole," I tell her, practically through gritted teeth. Damn, not angry enough for my eyes to go orange. No one has jumped a foot back. Perhaps that's best though, on reflection. I could do this on command, concentrate my fury further but I won't. I don't want Eric alerted to the fact I'm angry, and it'll only make matters worse.

"You deserve it," she tells me coldly, taking a step backward. I close the gap again immediately, stepping forward as I speak.

"So I'm guilty by association hmm? How very 'Christian' of you," I snipe in reply.

"Yes you are, and I wish that stone would've knocked you out too, fucking vampire blowing slut!" she rages at me, all her cronies cheering her on. I love the way she just assumes every female walking into Fangtasia is having a sex with vampires. It's so narrow minded, but in this instance very true.

"Yes, I do blow a vampire. That's one, singular, so I'm not a slut. I'm in a relationship with a vampire, a serious one too. In fact, he happens to be the big, scary blonde guy who owns this club. Can you imagine how pissed he's going to be when he hears that his lady was quite literally a target to you? I can." I reply very coldly and very quietly, smiling evilly at her as I imagine how Eric would react. It's at this point, the mention of Eric that most of them back off, little miss stone hurler included. I smile, amused as ever and turn to walk back over to Ginger, who insists on making up a cold compress for my head as soon as we get inside.

"My sister's little ones are always bumping their heads. Cold cloths are second nature to me to prepare now." She says, patting the cold cloth that's just moist enough without dripping all over my head to the small bump forming. I nod and smile, letting her feel useful. It really doesn't hurt too much, and I decide not to bother telling Eric, making Ginger swear not to breathe a word either.

He doesn't need to worry about the morons outside with the king coming soon. He just needed Mai Ling and Ginger to come in to prep in case the king leaves early enough for the club to open later on, so I leave them to it and head back downstairs to get changed. I quickly take my hairdryer and blast the damp spot at the back of my head as well as the roots of my hair to give it a little more volume.

After that I head to Eric's huge walk in wardrobe, where I keep my nicest of clothes. He takes me to some very nice places, so I have the very beautiful clothes to go with. After looking through the row of dresses I haven't even worn yet (he spoils me) I chose the beautiful Hervé Léger bandage dress I brought online just before we went away. Its deep plum in colour, and short in length but with long sleeves to the wrists and doesn't reveal any cleavage, just legs.

Before putting it on I go and stand in the kitchen with my one of my current books (The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, being read for the fourth time) and eat my sandwich, watching Eric zoned out in his own little world on the couch. I'm used to it now, when he just stops. Vampires have the ability to switch off consciously whenever they want to. If I was to call him loudly he'd snap out of it, but I'll leave him to it. When he's doing this, he isn't being niggled at by his own impatience. After eating I go wash my hands and brush my teeth, and then apply the rest of my makeup.

I choose a deep purple shade eyeshadow that'll match my dress and apply that, mascara and eyeliner, a twist of blush and a little lip gloss. I then give my hair a little brush through with my hot brush, rolling a few loose curls through the ends of my hair. When I wear my hair a little curly, it reminds Eric of the unruly appearance my tresses take on when we're having sex. I do love to remind of these things in tease. I then go put my dress on.

"Eric," I call from the doorway into the wardrobe, rousing him from his switched off state. "Do you approve of my outfit?" I then ask when his eyes fall upon me. He's in front of me within a second.

"You make me a very proud vampire," he tells me, kissing my cheek after his eyes give me the once over.

"I'm glad of that," I reply with a bright smile, turning my head to kiss his lips softly.

"That fucking sticky rubbish," he exclaims afterwards, wiping his mouth and frowning at me as I laugh gently. He likes the way glossed lips look, but he doesn't much like ending up wearing it too.

"Sorry handsome, here let me get that for you." I apologise while wiping away a little smear he's missed above his top lip, watching the corner of his mouth upturn in a 'you're forgiven, I suppose' manner. Looking at my watch I notice it's six thirty, so we head upstairs and sit at a large table set out up there with Pam, Mai Ling and Ginger milling around by the bar looking a little nervous. Like us, they're probably wondering who and want to expect, even though it has no bearing upon them directly really.

We talk amongst ourselves in a relaxed way, until the thud on the front door alerts us to the arrival of the king. I watch Pam look at the door and then move herself at a regular pace to go and let the party in. Lead by Helen Carmine, the number of vampires entering is vast, and also catches the attention of Mai Ling behind the bar (before Pam gives her and Ginger a look that tells them 'out' and they leave) since every single man who walks into the club is Japanese. I look to Eric, seeking an indication over who the king is, but I do not receive any looks of recognition back.

However, when the throng of bodies move around the table to seat themselves, one last vampire is revealed. As soon as Eric sets eyes on him, I know he must be the king. But, I do not know why the sight of said king has made Eric grip my hand so hard all of a sudden that I feel like my fingers are about to break. It must be bad though, because I just felt a huge emotion swell within Eric, an emotion I've never, ever felt come from him. That emotional swell is one of massive, huge amounts of panic.

"Mr Northman, I present to you the king of New York and now Louisiana too. Aiko Matsukata, your Area 5 sheriff, Eric Northman." Helen Carmine says graciously in introduction. Still, Eric's grip on my hand remains vice like, fear flooding him in a way that makes me feel more than anxious, yet just like him I do not let my inner feelings spread to my face.

"Eric, it has been centuries. It is good to seeing you prosper so well, this club you have, I understand it is quite the draw," the king replies courteously. He doesn't sound Japanese at all. His accent sounds almost British with a slight American twang. Vampire's accents can change over time though, depending on how many hundreds or thousands of years they've been vampiric and where in the world they have lived in that time.

"Yes my king, it is," he replies, as normally and coolly as ever.

"May I be introduced to these fine ladies in your company?" the king then offers, gesturing to Pam and then me. When he looks at me, his eyes do not leave me in a way that makes me actually shift in my seat, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. I feel right now like a piece of steak on a plate being eyed by a hungry long distance truck driver who hasn't eaten for three days. On and on that stare right into my eyes continues, making me nervous and nauseous until Eric's words break his intense stare.

"Of course, this is Pamela, my progeny," he begins, Pam nodding and quietly acknowledging him as 'your majesty'. "And this is Tyra, my wife." Eric then continues as he looks over at me. At hearing him refer to me as his wife I shoot back a look at Eric, and he squeezes my hand even tighter to indicate that I should keep quiet. Looking back at the king and giving him a beaming smile while trying to hide the 'what the fuck?' confusion I'm feeling within is perhaps one of the hardest things I've had to do recently.

"Eric, you do surprise me to come here tonight and find you a happily married vampire. It is a great pleasure to meet you, Mrs Northman," he tells me, nodding his head to me in an approving manner, but not looking quite as interested in me as he did before. I have to admit, that is a relief.

"You too, your majesty," I reply, returning the nod.

"Please, you are a human woman and I am not your king. You may address me as Aiko, I would like you to," he replies friendlily as he finally takes a seat at the opposite end of the table. "Now, down to business." He then says, looking directly at Eric who finally lets go of my hand and engages himself in talking to the king. I flex my hand a few times under the table to get the feeling back, and then feel the cold hands of Pam take my hand between hers and gently rub it. Even though Eric has slid easily into conversation about the running of the state, the details of the protocol within Area 5 and many etcetera's I could list too, I can still feel the fear within him.

I know that if I sit here and try to digest it, the vampire Aiko will see that I'm deep in confused thought, and since Eric is trying with all his might (and succeeding too) at hiding his inner feelings from the king, and whatever the reason was for introducing me as his wife, I have to make my mind go blank and just do what the king probably guesses I'm here to do. Sit and look pretty. So that is exactly what I do, right up until the king leaves with Pam seeing him out again. When the chance to finally speak arises though, suddenly the chaos erupts like a tornado.

"Pam, get on the phone and find me a registrar, one willing to come out here tonight. Do it immediately," he instructs Pam, who is looking at him in the same 'wait, what the hell?' way that I presently am too. "Downstairs, right now." He then instructs me, taking my hand again and practically dragging me through the club. Pam follows us down the stairs, searching through her cell phone and shutting the apartment door behind her.

"Eric, what the fuck is going on? Why did you introduce me as your wife, and why are you in a total blind panic right now?" I ask him, having him answer immediately.

"Aiko Matsukata is one of the most powerful and influential vampires on this continent, and whatever he sees and likes the look of, he takes for himself. As soon as he laid eyes on you, he wanted you for himself. I knew that loud and clear and merely telling him you were my human would not have worked. He would have still taken you, and then...then," he begins, his eyes wide and looking so unlike him, so out of control and scared.

"And then...?" I ask him, rubbing my hands on his shoulders as I halt his pacing in front of me, trying to calm him down.

"And then of course he'd recognise that your energy was not normal, he'd then consult with his maker over said energy, and then he'd know exactly what you are because his maker would know instantly. Then, you'd find yourself packed onto a plane and delivered right into the hands of Li San Lu, vampire king of Tokyo and maker of Aiko Matsukata. This is why we have to be married and married tonight. If he finds out what you are somehow, and he could just by something as simple as touching your arm in the future, he'll take you from me and deliver you right into the hands of the worst nemesis to your kind. If you're legally my wife, by both human and vampire law he cannot do that." He tells me at speed, still looking terrified as I feel the fear begin to rise within. Except this isn't Eric's fear, it's mine.

"Pam, any luck with finding a registrar yet? Also, someone who can officiate a vampire wedding ceremony, I need that too," Eric asks Pam, not giving me chance to reply.

"I'm collecting numbers at the moment. I'll move onto vampires afterwards," she replies, looking at him and then at me with concern.

"Do it faster," he snaps at her, before pulling his cell from his pocket. "Fabien, get over here now. On your way I want you to call as many normal registrars, and also vampires able to officiate a marriage under our law too as you can and try and find someone who can come out to Shreveport tonight to conduct a wedding ceremony. Do not ask questions now, just do it and I will explain when you're here." He barks at Fabien before hanging up again.

"Tyra, as soon as we can get someone here to conduct the ceremony I want you to call your parents and get them over here as soon as possible. I know it will be important to you to have them here," he then tells me, before going back to his cell. I feel like I just stepped into the twilight zone, or a dream of some sort that I have no control over.

"What is important to me is to be asked, Eric! You're running around in a total blind panic, organising a wedding you've not even asked me if I want to partake in! Shit, I know we're not the most conventionally romantic couple in the world, but is it so much to ask that I be proposed to? Or even just to sit me down and discuss this with me in some kind of logical and orderly fashion?" I ask him incredulously and a little angrily too.

"I don't have time," is all he replies.

"You don't have time? What the fuck does that even mean, you don't time?" I shout at him, exasperated.

"Listen to me, you silly woman. I'm doing this to save you from a probable nasty fate and all you can do is argue with me? Please, just cooperate with me, Tyra." He snaps in reply. Now, I know as I just stated we're not the most romantic couple on earth, and up until very recently marriage was something I'd never really invested much thought in, this much is true. But this just feels so wrong. It feels like a marriage of convenience, one that Eric has decided is convenient without even so much as discussing it with me. He won't even listen to me! That's what feels so wrong and confusing. The fact he's decided without even asking me, without even discussing it with me and acting like I'm going to be snatched at the stroke of midnight or something. I feel like my feelings and what I might want or not want are melting into the background. Suddenly, life doesn't feel carefree and lovely like it has been. It feels scary and dangerous, and like it's all closing in on top of me.

From the fact I've suddenly been exposed to danger again because of the identity of the new king, to the measures Eric wishes to take to overcome that, I feel underneath a hell of a lot of strain once more. Am I even ready to be a married woman? I liked the sound of it, liked being called Mrs Northman, but that was when being married was very far away in my mind. It's all too much to take in, and I want to sit and have time, discuss this with Eric, but every time I try and speak to him he shoots me down. I need out, this is just too much to take in all at one time.


	4. Chapter 4

**AxidentlGoddess, thank you so much for giving me some reviews! You're the only one who is bolstering my confidence in posting/writing this story at present! I hope a few more of you out there reading this follow her lead. It is important to me :) **

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Pam's POV

Through the chaos of trying to find phone numbers for a registrar, witnessing Eric now shouting orders at a nervous looking Mai Ling who he yelled to 'get your overly tattooed ass down here this minute' as he worded it, and him pacing as he makes phone call after phone call, I notice something that he hasn't.

"Eric," I say to him as soon as Mai Ling has scuttled off after being made to call Timpson & Blyth jewellers, to organise a representative bring over a selection of platinum wedding bands. He doesn't answer.

"Eric!" I say again, moving to right in front of him.

"Not now!" he replies, moving away from me.

"Yes now! Have you even stopped to register that your 'fiancée' has fled?" I tell him forcefully, pointing with my index finger at the space Tyra was occupying up until just three minutes ago. "No, I don't suppose you have. I don't suppose in all of this that you've even noticed how confused and upset she is either?" I then charge him with.

"I have no time! We have no time! Tyra needs to just get on with this and ask questions later," he says hastily.

"You have enough time to go after your woman right this second and ask her properly to marry you, Eric. It's the decent thing to do, because right now I can wager a hefty sum that Tyra is pissed at you because you haven't so much as asked her properly. You've decided you need to be married, and the hell to whatever she thinks!" I exclaim.

"That's not how it is, I just, we have to be married, Pam! He can all too easily take her if we're not, and I've told him we already are betrothed too, so it has to happen fast," he flusters at me. Holy motherfucking shit. I have never, ever seen my maker so panicked before. If I didn't already know how much he does, this would prove loud and clear to me how deeply he loves Tyra.

"I think she knows that now, after the risk you presented to her. I don't think she'd mind being married to you at all, I have to say, but Eric for fucks sake, you didn't even let her speak! You didn't ask her properly, you just stonewalled her and that is not doing as you said you would and treating her as your equal," I protest, knowing that I have to get this through his thick head, and fast. If I don't, there will be no bride tonight. I know what my friend is like and so should he. Tyra Boden does not take kindly to having decisions made for her. Finally, what I have said seems to have sunk into his head a little, and I see him begin to calm down a smidgen. He then does something else very unlike his usual form, and rubs his creased forehead and sighs heavily through his nose.

"You're right, you're absolutely right. I just ran at this like a bull at a red cape, I admit that. All because I was propelled by the blinding fear that in the blink of an eye I'd lose her. I can't go through that again, Pam. I have to do everything I can to prevent anything sinister happening to her at all costs. That is what made me act in the way that I did, but I should have at least sat her down and spoken to her about this more fairly," he laments, knowing he's wrong.

"Then you need to go find her, and then bring her back to do just that. Until you do, I'm not calling any more registrars, or vampire versions of them either," I reply, folding my arms and giving him an 'I'm serious' look. I'm a good child and I do not defy my maker's word easily, but now I will. This is me standing up for my gal, his gal, who I do believe he should make his wife. After asking her properly, that is.

"I want to leave her to cool off for a little bit. I'll go to her soon, she hasn't gone far. I can still feel her close by. She's above ground somewhere," he tells me.

"Well I'm going to make sure she's okay, while you do whatever." I tell him before striding out of the subterranean apartment and heading upstairs to find Tyra.

"Up." says our quiet and aloof DJ Rob, pointing at the roof when I ask if he's seen her. Heading towards the rear entrance of the club, I climb up the back staircase that leads to the doorway heading out onto the roof, and then suddenly stop and fly back to the bar to fetch something before returning.

"Here," I tell Tyra as I sit down next to her on the edge of the roof and pass her the glass of brandy I thought to bring with me.

"Thank you, I think I need it," she tells me before taking a sip and shivering as the Courvoisier slips down her throat.

"I just chastised Eric on your behalf darlin', he's coming up to speak to you in a little while. He wants to let you cool off first, which is the first wise decision he's had in the past hour if I'm honest. Apart from wanting to marry you, I think that's a good idea even though he hashed up the way he went about asking, or not as is the case," I say to her, watching her nodding as she looks down at the contents of her glass.

"Can I be truthful with you, Pam?" she asks.

"You know you always can," I reply softly, putting my hand on her shoulder to enforce my point. Even though I'm not maternal and never was (even as a human), this girl has become almost like a child to me. I have a very genuine affection for her.

"When we were in Morocco, because it's a Muslim country we masqueraded as husband and wife so sharing a hotel room wouldn't be frowned upon. Most places refuse to book you unless it's in separate bedrooms if you're unmarried out there, but I digress. Pam, I loved hearing people call me Mrs Northman, I loved it way more than I should have. But this, this is just not the way I envisaged it, if we were to marry. This is just...chaos. Chaos where what I think and feel are overridden by Eric's word, which I honestly thought was a thing of the past," she explains lengthily to me.

"I explained to him in a similar way that he'd taken the choice completely out of your hands and that was wrong, and he sees this now. He was just scared, Tyra, so very scared that once again he was on the verge of losing you. That in itself speaks volumes for the love he has for you, but the way he went about it doesn't and I know that's why you're as pissed as you are right now," I reply.

"I'll appreciate it more when he comes to apologise for how he spoke to me," she tells me with some bitterness to her voice. I can't say I blame her. She expects more of Eric, and a year ago I would have told her whatever the situation to never expect much from him. That was a year ago though, and now she can and damn well deserves to expect much more from him.

He lost his head for a few moments back there though, so in turn Tyra shouldn't be too much of a bitch to him because of it. Eric never loses his cool, and I'll give him all due credit, I had no idea of what he was supressing as he talked with the king. It should show her loud and clear how much he loves her, but in turn he should have least asked her to marry him, rather than telling her she would be.

To be honest, I really do not know if he'd ever choose to wed Tyra completely off his own back. I don't think he feels the need to be married to her, their bond is enough. I think that perhaps he'd only ever marry her if it was something that would make her feel more secure. Actually, I'm merely speculating here, because usually I would never peg these two for marriage.

I don't believe they need it because of their bond, but crazily, the ultimate decision isn't theirs I suppose. They have to marry to secure and ensure Tyra's safety. If Matsukata took a legal wife from another vampire, he'd lose his respect within our community on the whole, and his title. It's a serious business, wife knapping. He just couldn't do it; it is a code that vampires cannot break. Suddenly, I think I fully understand Tyra's reaction. It isn't her decision, and for a moment the only person who wanted to make it theirs was Eric.

"Pam, if I could have time with Tyra alone." Eric asks of me as he comes walking over to where we're sat. I turn and kiss her cheek before getting up and leaving them to it, wondering what the outcome of this is going to be as I head back downstairs.

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Tyra's POV

"Tyra I'm sorry, and if you would allow me to I'd like to talk with you properly, and recompose what I said to you earlier," Eric tells me, coming to stand at my side. I pat the concrete ledge of the roof next to me as I look up at him, and as soon as I move my hand he's sat right in that spot.

"Go on," I reply, lifting the glass containing the large measure of what I believe to be Courvoisier to my lips and taking a sip.

"A vampire cannot take another vampire's legal husband or wife, so if we were married it would guarantee your safety from a vampire who would claim you as his before delivering you to his master, who without your permission would probably turn you too to keep you with him as his blood source forever. I would never see you again, for definite. He would never release you from his command. We would exist on this planet forever apart. If San Lu got hold of you, I'd never be able to get you back. I do not like to be weaker than any vampire, but to him I am because of his guards. He's the most impregnable king in the world, not even Agnes could get you back from him. He is guarded by a huge team, near two hundred vampires inside of and surrounding his residence.

"He is never alone, even though both Agnes and I at our ages could of course kill him. There would never be a chance though. He also makes his own rules, and breaks the ones he doesn't like. He's ruthless, powerful, and the closest thing to pure evil this world will ever see. By all accounts you're lucky I'm not currently selling the bar and telling you we're moving back to Sweden. I will not run from anyone though, lest of all him. I do however want to make it impossible for him to do what I know he will do should he find out what you are. I will try my hardest to keep you from literal arm's length and further from the king at all times, because if he touches you, he will want to know just as I did what you are. Then he will take you, as I have said many times.

"But I do realise I was wrong in the way I went about all this, to not discuss it with you. So Tyra, I've stated my case. I think the best option for your safety is to become my wife." he tells me at length (for a usually very concise vampire) while I look out into the night sky and take a few moments to digest his words. There is silence for a long time.

"You're sad inside, I can feel it. I can tell you're scared over the threat as well, but the sadness is what I can feel the most," Eric tells me, breaking the silence.

"It's like you're asking me to marry you because you have to, not because you want to. Oh hold up, that's right. You haven't even asked me yet," I reply with a touch of sarcasm, but mostly disappointment.

"I think I can sense the underlying issue here, from your point of view. I think right now, you think that my love is not great enough to prompt me to ask for your hand in marriage purely out of love and devotion to you. Tyra that simply is not the case, and I can prove it," he says in reply to my little outburst. I look at him quizzically, and he stands and helps me do the same before leading back into the club and straight back into his apartment.

"That wasn't it Eric, it really wasn't because I've never thought you would ask me to marry you. I thought it was perhaps the last thing you wanted, I really did. I just completely objected to the way you steamrollered the idea to me rather than asked me, and discussed the whole thing properly. I just felt like I was lost in the eye of a huge storm going on around me, and you wouldn't listen," I explain to him as I sit on the couch. I notice that rather than come and sit with me he goes over the place where he safe is located, classically behind a large picture (a genuine H.R Giger airbrushed canvass) over on the far wall. He retrieves something from inside before closing it up and rehanging the painting again.

"Then in that case, this should come as a pleasant surprise to you," Eric tells me as he sits down next to me on the couch, and presents me with a small dark red velvet lined box. From what he just said, it doesn't take a genius to work out what's inside. My jaw hits the floor all the same when I see the ring though.

"Oh my…is that hope diamond?" I exclaim, turning to face him.

"It's the 'I hope you'll say yes' diamond. I've had it since the New Year when I originally went to replace the one taken from you, and when I decided that I didn't like calling you my girlfriend any longer. It sounds childish. Also, you deserve to be my wife; you're the only thing I've ever truly loved as a vampire. You're only the second woman in my entire existence I've ever been in love with too. So before I manage to do the impossible and make myself retch, Tyra will you do me the honour of being my wife?" He asks me. He takes the ring from the box and easily slides it onto my finger, where its weight is registered by my finger muscles tensing a little to adjust to it being there. It's a huge, oval cut diamond surrounded by little sparkly baguettes and set on a platinum band.

"So far, I haven't found the right moment. To be honest, this isn't the right moment either. Instead, this is the right thing to do at this particular moment, but only if you say yes. That's only fair," he tells me, while I nod and begin to smile. There it is in his words, and in the ring on my finger. There is the evidence that from his point of view, this was on the cards anyway.

"Yes, yes I will. On one condition though, and that is that you chill out on the whole finding someone to marry us tonight idea. There's always tomorrow," I reply. He gives me a very big kiss before he answers me.

"You see my beautiful one; it is there that the urgency lies. I know Matsukata, and I know he will check up on that as soon as he can. So therefore the marriage needs to be quick," Eric replies, while I suddenly think of something. Sadly that something is a pitfall.

"Eric that won't work, because if he's looking for a record of a marriage license then it'll show the date it was issued, and know you lied to him when he sees that when we met we weren't already married," I point out, watching him look something close to startled. He isn't hugely expressive in a calmer state like now.

"Oh…fuck," he eventually spits out quietly, and there it is ladies and gentlemen. This is the first time I've ever seen Eric stumped. Luckily, the blockage that is 'what do we do now?' is quickly shifted when Fabien suddenly strides in after knocking the door.

"Now I've arrived I must ask, why the rush for a marriage so suddenly? You haven't got her pregnant have you, Eric?" he says as he walks closer to us. I almost laugh.

"Fabien, this is not the time or the place for comedy," Eric replies dryly, before asking 'have you come up with anything?' as he comes to a stop and then seats himself on the couch opposite us.

"No need to. As usual, Northman, you'll never let me explain something to you. From the fiasco with the servant girls in Florence to the debacle in the Casino in Atlantic City, you never let me explain," Fabien replies, while I feel my mind twitch in wonder over what those situations he mentioned entailed.

"So explain, and quickly," Eric replies tersely.

"In short, I'm an ordained minister. I can marry you and I can bury you, only five hundred bucks for the online course and certificate proving as much. Also, it's in my other alias, so I can help you with the problem I overheard on the way down here as well. Once again using that genius little tool called the internet, I can hack into the marriage and death licence office computers of whatever city you visited while you were away, and procure you a valid certificate. All that happens then is the three of us and two witnesses sign it and bingo, you're married officially. I'll cover both a vampire and a human style ceremony.

"The human style one, the legally binding one at least of course will be backdated to appear like it happened in say, Australia, and have the security of the fact a marriage did happen here tonight with the vampire ceremony. I can get my hands on a ceremonial knife very easily, since I know someone exactly three streets away from here that has one, conveniently enough," he explains simply, grinning proudly at the end and flashing his fangs in his triumph. He's sure covered every base he could cover.

"Remember I told you I had a computer hacker friend?" Eric says, smiling at Fabien and looking both impressed and relieved.

"I do," I reply.

"You're sitting opposite him," he replies, gesturing at Fabien with an outstretched hand. The dark haired vampire reins in his smile and gives a nod in acknowledgement, before gesturing to my laptop.

"If you don't mind?" he asks.

"The one up in the office is hooked up to a printer," I reply, pointing at the door and watching him nod and then get up and move quicker than I can see from the room.

"Well, that gigantic and scary mess just got sorted remarkably swiftly. Where's the catch?" I ask Eric.

"We deserve this; you will not question it or speak of catches. In case you do though…," he says, before his words come to a stop when his lips do the same against mine. So, it looks like I'm about to become a married lady then. Never, when I sat there on the balcony in Morocco and thought to myself how much I liked being called Mrs Northman, did I expect it this soon, or at all if I'm honest. It's as I think about it, that my mind begins to wander and ponder.

"Eric, are you sure this isn't all too hasty? I'm not trying to back out, but honestly, is it?" I ask him, my question interrupting our kiss a little abruptly.

"You know me, Tyra. Do you honestly think I would rush into something like this, commit myself to you in such a way, if I wasn't totally sure it was the only solution and in turn what I really did want? Especially after all I just said to you? You've no reason to be nervous." he tells me, putting both arms around me and hoisting me onto his lap. He's right of course. I do feel a little nervous. I feel how a heavy OCD sufferer must feel when they have their routine disturbed. I do want this, absolutely. It's just all so damn sudden though. This is a big change for me, having considered our bond a big enough commitment to each other, one bigger and greater than marriage in some respects.

So, what's the harm? What is different other than the fact that what we already are is going to be official, and we'll have the titles husband and wife? Nothing, nothing will be different, I'll be protected from spending my life and beyond as a blood slave (at the very worst) and Eric and I will still fundamentally be the same. All this when I was just beginning to enjoy normality, who'd have thought?

"Eric?"

"Yes?"

"I don't think we're destined to have normality in our world for long, are we?" I ask, stroking his chest with my fingernails.

"Perhaps not, but it could be exciting if it shifts from you ultimately being in danger at every occurrence though," he replies with a slight hint of laughter.

"I can't argue with that." I concur, leaning back against him and just wanting to get used to the idea for a bit longer, before either of us do anything else. Suffice to say, this has been one hell of an evening.


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm deciding to give this until chapter 10 for the interest to pick up, but if there are few R&R's still (reads and reviews) then it'll be discontinued. I just don't have the time or inclining to write when my work isn't A- garnering enough interest and B- having feedback left, it's pretty pointless. I'll leave it in your hands, guys, and thank you for those who've read so far.**

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Eric's POV

"That one is beautiful, and it will match your engagement ring perfectly," I tell Tyra, as we sit opposite a young vampire sales representative of Timpson & Blyth fine jewellers named Melanie. She looks disturbingly similar to British actress Helena Bonham Carter, a more youthful version at least.

"You don't think it looks too much?" she replies, twirling the wedding ring decorated in tiny baguettes around her finger and then seeing how her engagement ring looks next to it.

"I think it is a perfect match, you'll just need to have it resized," I comment, noticing it is a little too big even with the hefty engagement ring providing a stopper on her finger.

"I hadn't planned on taking it off again after you put it on to be honest," she replies somewhat sadly.

"Then I feel it is a good job that I have this one in a smaller size. Try this, Miss Boden," the vampire Melanie says helpfully. She still has that cheer about her that makes me see loud and clear just how young in her vampirism she is. Probably only made a year or two ago. You hold onto a bit of humanity like that at the start still. Only in exceptional occasions do you regain it again.

"Perfect," Tyra announces after trying on the smaller sized ring, and then giving me a look. "Is that okay with you?" she asks, since I'm paying. I adore that about her. I have an almost limitless supply of money and she is courteous enough to ask if purchases are okay by me. She's one in a million. Any other woman would have tried to get her claws into my cash by now. Not her. That's why at every chance I get, I spoil her rotten. She deserves it all.

"Of course it is. Melanie, can you write me out an invoice so I may pay you?" I then ask, the young vampire nodding and pulling out an invoice book and a mobile credit card terminal. She writes down the total and I pay her the $8,000 she's due for our wedding rings and with that she leaves, passing Fabien as she head out and he enters. He does a spin on one foot when he sees her and almost heads back out of my door again.

"Fabien, control yourself," I call to him, watching him spin back around again and head over to us, grinning with mischief. At the rate he's going, he will have bedded more women than me at half my age.

"She works at Timpson & Blyth, right?" He asks, pointing back over his shoulder.

"Right," I confirm, a little agitated.

"A mental nose has been made," he mumbles quietly. "Anyway," he then announces in louder tones. "I have your marriage certificate; I just need you both to sign it so I can scan it and plant a copy of it in the Queensland registry office computers, and that's it. You're done."

"And this is going to be legal, completely legal?" I ask him.

"It's absolutely legal and valid, since I'm an ordained minister. The only thing illegal I've done is to procure the marriage certificate and then plant it back into their system. They won't be able to tell, since I've specifically marked out that the marriage did not take place in the halls themselves, so they'd have no record of a Northman/Boden wedding party anyway. Its fine Eric, even if it was found out to be placed there through hacking, your marriage would still be binding regardless. Nothing says my alias wasn't there in Australia marrying you either, not that they'd even bother checking," he explains lengthily.

"It's your head on the chopping block if it isn't, old friend," I tell him, watching him nod.

"I know, so rest assured you have nothing to worry about. If the king calls the office to check that at any point, there it will be in the files for whoever answers his call to tell him that yes; a marriage certificate was issued to Eric and Tyra Northman. Well, I suppose I'll leave you both to get ready as I take it we're doing this tonight?" he replies.

"Yes, Tyra's parents have been notified and are on their way here, so we will be ready shortly. I'll get Pam to fetch you when we are all present and correct." I tell him before he nods and leaves.

"So are bothering to dress any more nicely than this?" Tyra then asks me.

"Oh I do think so, yes. In fact, since we do not have time for me to call in a designer and have them create the wedding dress of your dreams, I did think there was something in particular you could wear. That is, if you're open to my suggestion?" I reply, watching her pull a curious face as she smiles.

"Of course I am. Now you're back to being considerate enough to ask if you may make suggestions," she replies, making me laugh. I have a feeling I'm going to be verbally punished with such comments by my soon to be wife for a time yet, for how I ordered her around like a mere employee. She isn't my employee any longer, since I begrudgingly let her do the Fangtasia accounts for free upon her insistence. Getting up off the couch I take her hand and lead her over to my large walk in wardrobe, entering and shuffling through her vast rack of dresses and pulling out the first one I ever brought for her.

"You did say you were going to wait for a special occasion to wear it," I tell her, watching as she walks in to join me.

"I see no other special occasion on the horizon either, certainly not one important enough to wear Gautier couture for," she replies, before stripping off and getting into it. I help her with the zip, and then stand back to look at her.

"Perfect," I tell her with a nod. I then turn and walk over to my own vast area within the wardrobe and begin to search through my own suits. I settle on a smart, all black single breast and button dress suit. I had this made for me on Savile Row while I was in London on business three years ago. I choose a black shirt to go with it and dress at speed before standing behind Tyra and looking at our reflection in the mirror. Yes, I do have one.

"We look like we're going to a fucking funeral," she says through a sudden snort of laughter, her face crumpling before she covers it with her hand and laughs more.

"We both look damn good all in black. We're pale blondes, we look transparent in light colours," I tell her, smiling when I make her laugh more. It has been something I have begun to enjoy, making her laugh. "Come on, let us go wait for your mom and pop." I then tell her before we leave the vicinity of the wardrobe and head upstairs to the virtually empty club.

"I told Ginger and Mai Ling to leave, I glamoured both of them so they wouldn't know about the wedding, so they'd think you were married already on vacation to match the story. Sorry Tyra, I know your feelings over frying up Ginger's head further but I had to. Rob went home too, and Fabien is off fetching the knife and some other items he needs." Pam tells us when we walk in. I can hardly believe what I'm about to do, that it'll be happening very soon. I'm entirely comfortable with it though.

After our blood bond, I felt closer to Tyra than I had anyone throughout my existence. Even my dear Ida, if I'm honest. Also because of the nature of said bond only death will part us, so shortly after the New Year I began to think that maybe we should marry. As I told Tyra, the word girlfriend was grating on me. Wife sounds more adult. Also as I've said, she deserves to be my wife. I love her immeasurably. Those are the all-important reasons I have for marrying her before anything else, but the most obvious at present is of course is to keep her safe. No vampire can take another's wife, and he will not take mine. You might think this an overzealous measure, but he could find out what she is all too easily.

If I hadn't have thrown him off by telling we were married, Matsukata would have tried to pursue her just a few hours ago. He was heavily interested in her. In fact the way he eyed her for a few moments made my stone cold blood boil. I wanted to do to him what I did to Nan Flanagan, rip him limb from limb, king or no king. I do not like anyone looking at Tyra in that way. Only I may do that. Apart from the above, of course lies the fact that no one will take what is mine again. No one, and she will be mine and I hers until the day she dies. Or perhaps beyond, if she chooses to be made that is. Anyway, I'm thinking way ahead of myself here so back to the present. Tyra's mother and father have just arrived.

"Honey I can't believe how sudden this is! I mean, your father told me you'd told him it was important for your safety, but even so this is the last thing I expected to be doing at a quarter to ten on a Wednesday!" her mother Joyce tells her. Joyce is a glamorous woman and youthful for her age. It's clear to see she influenced Tyra's immaculate appearance. I don't like her much though.

"Dad, you're grinning and not asking questions. And on the phone you didn't sound so shocked, so now I see the face that matches the tone, what gives?" she asks her father, as I walk over to her side and Albert catches my eye. "You knew, didn't you?" she then asks him incredulously, but with a big smile on her face.

"I did, yes," he replies, looking uncomfortable when his wife turns her head sharply to look at him.

"He did the decent thing and came and asked me for my daughter's hand in marriage a while back. Eric, Tyra, I'm glad of this," Albert informs us, with a genuine smile. "I know the lengths you go to in order to keep my daughter safe and I couldn't be happier that she's marrying you." He then tells me solely, patting my shoulder firmly. I nod and smile thinly in return (I don't like being touched by anyone, bar Tyra or Pam, but not in the sexual sense with the latter obviously), and then wrap an arm around my very soon to be wife. Very soon indeed, since Fabien just arrived.

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Tyra's POV

As soon as Fabien arrives and uses the tables set up earlier for the meeting as a makeshift altar, and sets out the items he brought back with him, it begins. The ceremony is comprised of the more human version of exchanges of vows and the exchange of rings. We wrote our own, and no I won't tell you what they were. That's between me and Eric. Then came the traditional vampire part, vows of similar meaning and then a cut to Eric's left palm and one to my right, our hands joining in a clasp together over a chalice we then drank our combined blood from. The wound on my hand was healed by the help of his blood shortly before we kissed for the first time as husband and wife. A short and sweet ceremony, just what I would have planned if I'd had the time to organise a wedding at more than last minute notice.

This brings me up to now, sitting on Eric's lap with a very large drink in my hand, secured in a roped off section of a now open to the public Fangtasia. There's also a large curtain draped across to the side of where we're sat, meaning most of the club cannot see us anyway. My mom looks a little scared of all the vampires around her right now. She's only just getting used to the fact she has a 1,000 plus year old Viking vampire for a son in law. Just like he will have to get used to her, since as you know from the past my mother and Eric did start on the wrong foot. She's trying hard though, and I'll give him his credit Eric is as well, especially when he doesn't much like her. He holds a grudge, my husband.

That felt strange in a nice way just then, to refer to Eric as my husband. I can still hardly believe that just over an hour ago we got married. What an absolutely crazy, crazy night. You know, I don't feel different at all for being married. I just feel the same, but the big difference is that earlier tonight the fear of being taken from my vampire set it again for a while. Now it has melted like a glacier being dropped into a volcano.

The only regret I have is that there just wasn't time to call my friends and ask them to attend too. Anna and Dmitri would have had to have tried to organise a last minute sitter, and I'm sure Lafayette is in at Merlotte's tonight, so he would have had to find last minute cover too. I will explain that to them when I see them, and apologise unreservedly for not being able to include them too.

"So then, will Tyra be joining you to live here at the club, or will you purchase a new home together?" My father asks Eric. I don't suppose he's even hat time to think of our living arrangements yet, but when he replies he takes me by surprise.

"I must admit my home here is comfortable enough for me, and convenient too since all I have to do to get to work is climb up a flight of stairs. I do however love the peacefulness of Tyra's home, so I had an idea to perhaps modify her place and live out there. I don't much care for Bon Temps or its people, but the peace is enjoyable out there by the lake," Eric replies, my father nodding.

"That sounds a great idea. I know plenty of vampires in the construction business too who specialise obviously in building homes fit for a vampire, with the electronic window blinds and all for example. I can get you some numbers if you'd like me to?" my dad replies.

"Yes, thank you Albert that would be wonderful. Although of course it is Tyra's home and I need to discuss all that with her first," Eric replies courteously. He probably knows people already who do this kind of work, but right then I knew he didn't want to be dismissive of my father's offer of help. He actually likes my dad, which I am glad of. My father does happen to be a staunch vampire sympathiser after all.

"I just had a thought! You will of course want some mementos from tonight, and since you probably didn't have time to organise a photographer, would you allow me to take some pictures of you both?" my dad suddenly asks us both. I turn to look at Eric, silently consulting him with facial expressions.

"You're right, and I would like some pictures to mark the occasion. As soon as you're ready, Albert, we'll head to a more private location." That location funnily enough ends up being on the shore of the lake outside my home, my dad taking some lovely pictures of us, using a lamp he drags out from my living room on an extension cable to provide enough light. It was fortunate he brought his nicest camera with him.

We then head inside since there's a few items I want to take back to Eric's place with me, and I brew some coffee for my tired looking parents. They drink a cup each before deciding to head home for the night. My poor father has to be up at 5am after all. After receiving a hug and kiss from them both, and laughing behind my hand discreetly when my mother gives the same to an unhappy looking Eric, we wave them goodbye and get back into Eric's car and head back to the club.

"She is trying you know, trying to make room for you in her affections," I tell him, as he still looks pissed off at being kissed by my mother.

"I'm sorry, but I don't like her. After her outburst when you told her we were first in a relationship I have been soured by her ever since. You know no matter whom they are, my tolerance for humans only stretches so far. On the other hand, I do think a lot of your father. He's a fine man, and he has been more than welcoming towards my kind," he replies, balancing his venom for my mother with praise for my father, who he genuinely does like. Well, as much as Eric can like a human, that is.

"I don't blame you for that but regardless of what she said then, she's trying to make amends with you now. I know if someone pisses you off from the get go you hold it against them, and I will not demand of you to make an allowance just because she's my mother. I would however, like you to try if you could," I reply diplomatically.

"For you, I shall try. It will not be easy though. I can still feel her faint tinges of dislike for me in the air underneath whatever face she puts on. She trusts me and believes I'll look after you, but if we broke up tomorrow she wouldn't be sad about it. She'll always prefer the idea of you being married to a human than being married to me," he tells me, just as we enter the outer city limits of Shreveport.

"I'm not expecting you to turn into the dutiful son in law, Eric. Just perhaps set yourself to defrost any time she speaks to you." I reply, actually managing to make him smile, a little burst of laughter escaping his nose. I then leave the subject of my mother there, because my thoughts have all so suddenly turned to my real one. I have no idea what her reaction to my relationship and now marriage with Eric would be. I was just six when she died. I hardly knew her, and if I'm honest I have very few memories of her too. More just like still frames in my mind. My father I never knew at all. I look so much like him though. I have his eyes, nose and chin, and the same smile. He was a huge man, as tall as Eric but with a chunkier build. In the photos I have of them they looked very much in love.

I can help but let my mind and my heart find them today, on my wedding day. I would have loved for them to have witnessed it, but then of course if they had both have lived, would I even have met Eric? I'd probably still be living in Sweden. Its swings and roundabouts I suppose. At this moment I put my past to rest, smiling fondly to myself as I picture mom and dad in my mind's eye before concentrating on my present and future. Who is of course gorgeous vampire currently driving us much further into Shreveport than I expected.

"Why did we miss the turn off for the club?" I ask him as we keep on cruising further up the road away from Fangtasia.

"You don't honestly think I'd allow you to spend your wedding night at home, do you?" he replies, turning to look at me as he increases the speed we're travelling at.

"I did actually," I tell him with surprise.

"How you underestimate me." He says. A little over fifteen minutes later we arrive at a huge new build vampire hotel down on the riverfront. We are greeted by vampire valet who looks terrifying he's so thin and mean looking, so pale and his hair so red. When he speaks though I'm met with such an efficient and courteous manner his startling appearance is easy to forget. A bellboy comes forward swiftly and takes a suitcase from the back of the car, and the scary looking valet guy takes Eric's newest car (a Mercedes McLaren, he really pushed the boat out) straight down into the underground parking lot.

"I had Pam pack you some essentials and a change of clothes while she was down getting ready earlier on." Eric informs me as he takes my hand with one hand, and switches his cell off with the other. We then head inside the Black Moon hotel, not to emerge from enjoying each other as husband and wife for the first time for many, many hours to follow.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks to bunnychica9 for your reviews thus far. I very much appreciate you for them :)**

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Tyra's POV

"Ohhhhhh…mmmm." That's the sound of me, lying back against a large stack of pillows with Eric's head between my legs, his tongue pleasuring and soothing me greatly in equal measures. For the last eight hours we've had so much sex I can barely move, hence why he's down there presently licking and kissing everything better. He used the blood from a punctured finger to help with the immediate pain I felt internally.

"Better now?" he asks me, kissing his way back up my body slowly as I recover from a sudden and intense orgasm, shaking gently and panting softly as I close my eyes. When I open them again, his face is level with mine.

"Much, and I hate to be a bore but I think I might need to go to sleep now." I tell him, figuring he'll need to rest soon anyway since it just turned 7am. He usually goes to sleep at six.

"You aren't alone there. Sleep well, Mrs Northman." He tells me, kissing my check softly and pulling the covers up over us. When I said it felt good to hear other people refer to me as Mrs Northman, none of it compares to hearing those words leave his mouth. His arm slides around me and his hand rests on my stomach, and that's the last time I feel him move at all. He's lovely to sleep next to, so still and he doesn't snore either of course. Personally, I'm out like a light about twenty seconds after my head hits the pillow. When I awake again at just gone 5.30pm, the first things I see are the gorgeous blue eyes of my vampire looking down at me as he strokes my arm.

"Hello, my darling wife" he tells me, kissing my head and then resting his down on my chest as I wrap my arms around him.

"Hello, gorgeous husband," I reply, stroking his soft blonde hair. We lay like this together comfortably, sharing comfortable silence like only we can.

"I hate to burst this nice bubble, but we should be leaving for the club soon. Reality has to creep back in at some point I suppose," he tells me after ten silent minutes.

"I know, I suppose it must too. I was thinking to myself last night, it's kinda funny how we got the wedding and the honeymoon all the wrong way around," I reply, of course referencing we've just returned from a three month vacation.

"I did see the humour in that too." he tells me, kissing the side of my breast before reluctantly flinging himself out of bed, and then picking me up in his arms. "I didn't carry you over the threshold as I should have last night, so I'll just carry you to the shower instead." He adds as he walks us into the bathroom and kicks the door closed with his foot. We shower together and dress, and then leave the hotel at close to a quarter to seven, Eric stopping so I can get something to eat on the way back to the club. Once we get there, it's back to business as usual.

Eric immediately goes to conference with Pam over anything he might have missed last night after we left, while I head to the office to sink my head into the remaining ten accounts I have to get done by tomorrow afternoon. This is going to task me and then some. I slip back into it easily though, I'm one of these strange people who actually misses their work when I take a break from it. I've always been industrious though. About two hours into my work I'm disturbed by a little tap at the door, Mai Ling entering shortly after.

"Pam told me you were working away down here, and since I had to come in and give you my new bank account number anyway I thought I'd bring you this," the tiny little Japanese girl tells me as she places a large takeout coffee down on the desk.

"Thank you, that's kind of you," I tell her, reaching out for my coffee but having my hand intercepted as Mai Ling gasps.

"Oh my lord, you can't have been wearing my glasses when I saw you yesterday, because I would have noticed a rock that big! Wow! Congratulations to you both, Pam told me you and Eric had married out in Australia," she tells me, holding my hand delicately as she looks at my engagement ring. Of course Pam glamoured her and Ginger to believe that Eric and I had arrived back in the country as a married couple.

"Again, thank you. Right, do you have that account number so I can get your new account debit set up?" I ask her, pulling up the staff payroll files and entering the spread sheet named 'Mai Ling Donald'. I think it's amusing how she has a Japanese forename, and a very normal and western surname. Her grandfather was from Rhode Island and so her father only half Japanese, her mother full. She hails from Brooklyn, and she's very typical of a tough little Brooklyn girl. She passes me the information she's written on a slip of paper, and once I've entered the data I destroy the paper her details were written on and she heads back off to the bar. The only time after that I'm disturbed is around forty minutes later, when one of the vampire dancers throws himself through the office door.

"Ginger told me you were good with a needle and thread, please help! The whole fucking club just got a flash of my junk," Mark says to me almost desperately, holding a roll of black thread in one hand, and keeping the two sides of the broken PVC g string together with his other. He doesn't look bashful over the fact he accidentally flashed his dick though, more put out that he's had to leave the floor. Vampires are seldom shy.

"Come on, get that muscular butt of yours up on this desk." I tell him, giving the desk in front of me a loud double slap with my hand, and wheeling myself back in the chair to allow Mark to sit in front of me while I sew his underwear back together. Oh, the hardship of having to sew the g string of a vampire who will eternally look like a Calvin Klein model. Once I'm done playing seamstress Mark hops off the desk and heads back out to gyrate for his money on a podium, leaving me to work in peace on account number three of ten. I'm almost halfway through after only two hours, well done me. Although I have stuck to the smaller business files to start with, pacing myself at a gentle rate before I tackle the biggies.

Those would be the casino account landed by Cobie, and the GMC dealership account I managed to aquire after the vampire accountant who did run it was, well, liquidised. I thank the vampire Cassius for throwing that bone in my direction and giving me the contact information for the dealership after he told them 'I know a top notch accountant, I'll put her in touch'. After a very chaotic twenty four hours life has gone back to normal again. It is as I look down at my wedding and engagement rings sparkling away on my finger that I make a mental note to run on human time tomorrow, so I can do the necessaries I need to do in order to legally change my surname from Boden to Northman. I got what I wished for while I was away on vacation, but as I've said I never expected it to be this quick.

Speaking of my very recent nuptials, Eric pokes his head around the door at 11pm to tell me he's going to be out on business for the next four hours, also informing me Pam and I are in charge in his absence. Other than that my night here slaving over a hot computer remains uninterrupted, and I finish my work at just after 2pm. That's ten files in seven hours, which is good going even for me.

"I wonder, is it their blind faith or their stupidity that makes them think what they're chanting actually has any meaning to us?" I ask Pam as I arrive by her side. I then add 'mine, bitch' and put my arm around my friend when a typical fang banger stands admiring her for slightly too long, holding up the line of people and vampires waiting to enter. I like to piss them off at any chance I get, I'm mean like that. The woman looks put out and pouts, and Pam puts her arm around me in return and laughs before replying.

"The numbers are thinning as each night passes. I'd like to hope the boredom is setting in, but I doubt it. It's hard, having to be on your best behaviour at all times so you don't add fuel to the fire," she observes, looking out at the protestors from the Fellowship of the Sun with distain.

"Tell me about it. Don't divulge this to Eric, but yesterday that mousey looking girl at the front with the big nose threw a large stone at the back of my head. I verbally chewed her out, but it took everything I had not to pick her up by her ponytail and throw her under the nearest oncoming car," I reply, while Pam makes a hissing sound with her laughter.

"Ooooh, that's cold! I like it," she says eventually her eyes sharply fixing on the girl as I hear the snap of her fangs popping out in accompaniment to the visual.

"Well, little miss cold is going to haul her ass over to the twenty four hour grocer across the way there and hunt for something vaguely healthy to eat, see you in a sec." I then tell her, before turning and walking out of the front door and straight down towards the protestors. As I aim to walk around them, one of the men steps forward, frowning. He opens his mouth to speak, and that's as far as he gets.

"Back off!" I roar at him as loudly as I can, watching him jump two feet backwards. I can still hear Pam cackling raucously from the club door even when I'm all the way across the road.

"Hey Ranji, is the microwave working yet?" I ask the friendly Indian store owner as I enter the twenty four hour grocery store just two minutes from Fangtasia.

"All good to go, Tyra, I brought a new one." He calls back from behind the counter, looking up from the copy of Playboy he's unashamedly reading. I head straight for the chill cabinet and pick up a microwavable baked potato, remove the pot of tuna mayonnaise and take it to the microwave. Okay, admittedly not as healthy as I'd intended, but I pick up a bag of mixed salad and a box of white grapes to eat back in the office to make up for the calorie laden potato. There's one hell of a lot of cheese on it too, which I top with the tuna mayo. Paying and leaving I stand outside the club and talk to Pam from a little distance as I eat, not wanting to inflict my food fumes on her.

It's only when I turn to take my empty packaging to the litter bin just to the side of the club that I notice a very large Hummer limousine pulling up in front. A Japanese vampire, still wearing sunglasses even in the pitch black gets out and walks around the other side of the vehicle and opens the passenger side door. The vampire he reveals is the new king of Louisiana.

"Mrs Northman, just the lady I was looking for," he says charmingly as he approaches me. I paused a few yards from the bin when I saw the Hummer roll up.

"Good evening, Aiko," I reply courteously. He nods in acceptance, looking pleased I remembered to address him by his first name rather than his title, as he insisted I do.

"I have an invitation for yourself , Eric and Pamela. I am throwing a celebratory gathering, a party if you will for my gaining regency of your fair home state at my new residence. I cannot live at the palace where my dear Sophie Anne died, as many expected I would," he tells me as he hands me a gilded envelope. I look up at him again and see a big crease dent his forehead.

"I am sorry for your loss, for you to be widowed so soon after you were married," I offer in condolence, my mind turning over the fact that of course this show of grief could be an elaborate act. If Eric doesn't put murdering Sophie Anne to seize control of her state past him, then neither do I.

"So am I, she was a remarkable woman. I was a lucky vampire, if only for a short time. The burial of her remains takes place tomorrow, and then I fly back to New York. I am returning in two weeks for the celebration, it will be a large and splendid occasion I hope to receive yours and your husband's RSVP to." He replies, giving me a curt little nod and turning to leave. Just as I'm walking back towards the entrance of the club, Eric lands out of the air neatly onto his feet and turns to face me.

"Looks like we've got to dress up fancily all over again soon, we're invited to a party. One thrown by the king who just dropped by to personally invite us," I tell him quietly when I've walked the short distance between us. He takes the envelope I hand him and opens it to read the invitation within.

"Looks like we're going to be celebrating then," he says before putting the invitation into his jacket pocket and taking my hand to lead me back downstairs.

"Boo. I arrived and no one was here. Pam said I could wait down here," Fabien says as soon as we enter the apartment.

"The purpose of your visit is?" Eric asks expectantly, taking his jacket off and removing the invitation from his pocket to drop onto the table between the couches.

"Oh, I got one of those," Fabien says after noticing it. Both Eric and I look at him inquiringly, while I walk over to sit and join them.

"You have no status to warrant attending such a function, why does he want you there?" Eric asks him a little snobbishly. Fabien takes him in his stride as ever.

"He's heard of my skills and wants me to work for him. Which is what brings me here; you'll never guess what he wants me to investigate for him first. The details of your marriage are what," he replies, smiling and then laughing loudly. After a few moments, Eric and I join in too. Well, how very interesting.

"He works quickly, but unluckily for him I work quicker," Eric states triumphantly after we've all composed ourselves.

"You do have six hundred years on him," I say, looking at him with pride.

"There is that," Fabien says before standing again. "Anyway I just came by to inform you of that since I've been in the nearby area this evening," he then adds.

"Over in Bon Temps stalking Sookie Stackhouse after she left work, were you?" I ask him with amused tones.

"Stalking is too much of a strong word. I prefer keenly pursuing. I'll leave you both to it." He replies, before leaving at lightning speed.

"With that, I'm going to hit the computer for another few hours, see if I can't get a few more accounts done by the time the sun comes up," I reply, picking up the bag of food items I brought and standing up again.

"I'll join you shortly." Eric tells me. Shortly is what he means too, since he enters the office roughly three minutes after I have. He sits down on the opposite side and clears himself a space, putting down the large sketch pad, pencil and eraser he carried with him and then beginning to draw. Looking over at what he's drawing in regular intervals over the next hour, I see it starting to come together I realise he's drawing a picture of my house. He then stops and pulls a face, and smiles at me when he notices I'm looking at him.

"How much of the land surrounding your property do you own?" he asks me with interest, his scribbling coming to a stop.

"I own the frontage right on up to the edge of the lake, and the land that stretches about a quarter of the way up the one side of the lake too. When I purchased the property my realtor told me that if no one from the family of the man who previously owned the land, but had since died made a claim to it in the following five years it'd go to whoever owned the house. I have eight months left to wait and see, and then I can put in a claim for it with the parish council," I explain, watching him nod and make a few sweeping lines across the paper in front of him.

"As you heard me say to your father last night, I would like it if we could extend your house and live out there. I was originally thinking of getting an upstairs built onto it, but instead it could be lengthened so the house curves around the top half of the lake like this," he replies, turning the sketch pad around and showing me what he's drawn. "Fuck eight months. If no one has staked a claim to the land thus far then they aren't going to and if anyone does, then they have me to argue with. So that means the house can extend right around like that, see?" he then says, pointing at the drawing with his pencil. I wish I could draw. He's tried to teach me but I'm so terrible. Lamer than lame, my efforts are.

"Eric, this is literally four times the size of my house!" I exclaim, looking at the drawing intently.

"Five actually, since I was thinking we could have it built out a little too. We could make it even bigger than that still," he replies, circling the area at the back of my house that is all just trees and creeper weeds. When you live in virtual woodland, you can't really garden. Hoyt Fortenberry comes by every once in a while and cuts down any dangerous or intruding branches and vines for me. He insists on no money, so I always pay him for his time in beer.

"So I'd live here while it was being remodelled then?" I ask, making him laugh quietly and look at me a little incredulously.

"No, I shall make you sleep in your car," he replies with sarcasm, while I just smile and note that what I said was utterly stupid. He was right to poke fun.

"We should talk about this more tomorrow. I need to get a few more files finished and then head to bed," I tell him, watching him raise his eyebrows.

"No, you look tired. Enough work tonight." He tells me, switching off the computer monitor and giving me a 'don't argue' look. I smile, look at my watch and see its 4am and decide he's right. Taking my leftover litter from the salad bag, the remnants of my bunch of grapes and hard drive I switch off the computer and leave the office with Eric gladly. After we get downstairs I pour myself a glass of wine and run a bath, which I did intend to take alone. As usual I end up with a visitor, a big, naked vampire visitor who comes and lies behind me and talks with me about more of his ideas to extend my house.

He really has put a lot of thought into it, but tells me that ultimately he trusts my taste and wants me to choose the decoration for the entire abode. Well, I guess sitting here smiling at him and feeling excitement means I've said 'yes, you can rip my house to bits and build a bigger, better one'. It is at this moment, as I lean forward and feel Eric rubbing a bar of soap across my back that I think what stark contrast the scene is from this time last year. This time last year we were in a no strings sexual relationship that was as rocky as the famous mountain range. Now we're married and discussing our future home. It scarcely feels real still, but I love every minute of it all the same._hapter Six_


	7. Chapter 7

** AxidentlGoddess, bunnychica9, Kassandra J and str8jacket, I thank you all for your reviews. Also a big welcome to the new readers this has gained since the last chapter. Good to have you here :) I hope you all enjoy the chapter, and look forward to your thoughts.**

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Eric's POV

"Do you think the king thought you were lying to him about us being married at the time when we saw him then? That's the reason why he's assigned Fabien to seek out the details of our marriage?" Tyra asks me as we lie in bed after taking our shared bath.

"No, Matsukata would have spoken out if he'd have seen through the charade. He's very much that kind of vampire. He's just checking up on me, and you as well to know what kind of people he has closer to him I should imagine. This is why I wanted us to marry so quickly, because I just knew he'd do something like this. What I didn't know is that he'd hire Fabien to do it. What a stroke of ironic luck," I reply.

"That makes me breathe a slight sigh of relief. Unless he finds some way to touch me, indirectly of course," she replies, referring to the fact since she is mine he cannot really lay a finger on her. He can however find out she omits an amazing energy if he does anything like accidentally brush her arm, and then wonder what it is he just felt. I know you must think we're overreacting, but what happened last year even though most of the time is far away can still only feel too real. Tyra still suffers nightmares about it, sometimes I have too. Even though he can't take her, I doubt his maker has such regard for vampire lore. Especially since this isn't his kingdom. It's his progenies, which is even worse for me.

"Let us not speak of this any longer. I do not want you to worry. If it came to it, Tyra, if he did find out I'd kill him before he got to you if I'm honest. I'd be prepared to have my fangs ripped out and be locked in a silver coffin to ensure your safety. Obviously that isn't the ideal solution but I'd do it. I'm stronger than him anyway. After drinking your blood I could take out him and his security without issue. I just wanted you to know that. You won't be taken from me again," I tell her, kissing the top of her shoulder.

"You're forgetting something. Being parted from each other would drive us both insane. So let's hope it doesn't come to that, or if it does you'll just have to be your usual cunning self about it, and not go kill him for glory and make sure everyone know it was by your hand. Anyway, all this is, it's just speculation of what 'could' happen. Are you looking forward to his celebration?" she asks me, stroking my chest and making me feel calm inside again. Her energy is pure peace to me.

"For purposes of keeping my ear to the ground yes, but not for much more than that," I tell her honestly. "Are you?" I ask her.

"Hmmm, I'm unsure. On the one hand it could be interesting. On the other, there are very few vampires I have any time for," she replies equally as honestly.

"I noticed the address he listed on the invitation was not Sophie Anne's former residence," I voice.

"He actually confided in me over that, or flat out lied. I'm unsure which. I can tell when you're lying but I'm not so good with other vampires. Pam can still fool me. Anyway I digress. He said he couldn't live in the same place she'd died in, and that for a short time she'd made him a very happy vampire," Tyra replies, while I think on her words for a few moments.

"He attempted to pass off the marriage as one out of devotion and not merely a merging of states for financial gain. Interesting," I tell her.

"Mmmm, it is." she replies simply, each blink lasting a little longer than the last.

"I'm sorry, I'm keeping you awake. You sleep now." I say, stroking the side of her face and kissing her. She turns over and curls up against me, asleep within moments. I banish all thoughts of my new king, his possible past bad deeds and future motives fro my mind, and happily join her moments later. I awake again at 5pm, and instead of finding Tyra next to me I see a note instead. She explains she's got things to do in the daylight hours, and that she'll be seeing her friend Lafayette tonight so will not be back until late.

"Oh, but you're still here." I tell the cat when she jumps onto the bed and meows at me, nudging my hand with her head shortly afterwards. She demands attention when she wants it. I get up and get dressed after a few minutes, checking my cell for messages. Amongst others is one from Fabien informing me he's roping in Cassius to search for any information on Sophie Anne's death, or should that be murder? When I head upstairs and find Pam, it turns out I receive some interesting information from her.

"We've been invited to a celebration being thrown by the king on his gaining of the state, it's two weeks from now. From the wording of the invitation it seems there will be a few other state regents present too. There, I've given you sufficient notice to purchase a new outfit," I tell her, watching her looking interested. Whether that is over the party or purely the prospect of a new dress, I do not know. Pam does love to shop.

"Speaking of the king, I have news for you. Apparently, and this is through the usual grapevine, the king and Sophie Anne were seen together socially a hell of a lot prior to their marriage. He showed her off to his associates endlessly, so I've been informed," Pam tells me with a raised eyebrow. "Looking every inch the besotted pair too, so my source tells me, so what does that say?" she adds.

"He either went to great lengths to show her off and convince everyone this romance and whirlwind marriage was the real thing, rather than a merging of states for financial gain on his part. Or it really was true, and her death a genuine and poorly timed accident. I'll get to the bottom of it one way or another," I tell her, watching the corners of her mouth begin to twitch into a smile.

"You're hoping he did, don't you? You're hoping you'll find enough evidence to throw light on the fact he murdered Sophie Anne for her title, he'll get hauled in front of the brand spanking new, we-cannot-be-bribed authority, and he'll lose control of the state. Thus meaning of course he'll never come into contact with Tyra again, and you'll be happy," she replies, working out my inner thoughts superbly.

"Of course," I reply, raising my eyebrows. She's right. If there was a way I could get the vampire only one step from San Lu away from here I'd do it. This is it. I know it probably sounds like I'm leaping all over this and taking things too far unnecessarily, but Tyra's safety is of paramount importance to me. Just in case you hadn't worked that out yet.

"Oh here, you have the usual stack of mail. I took the liberty of removing the poison pen style death threats and junk mail usual'," she says as she passes me a large pile of envelopes, paper and padded, and a couple of Amazon boxes at the bottom.

"Thank you." I tell her before she moves off to sort out the cash in the registers with Deborah. I take the mail back to the office and begin by opening the small boxes from Amazon, so the books inside are ready to give to Tyra when she gets here. It is now that my thoughts turn to her naturally, and I wonder what she's doing right now. Taking my cell from my pocket, I decide I'll find out…

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Tyra's POV

"Well Cobie just arrived here to drop off the work he's done and pick up some more box files from me, I saw Esmeralda earlier to do the same, and managed to get all of the files I was working on in the early hours dropped off with their respective clients...yeah I was up at eleven...yes I do feel like having a nap, you're right...okay I'll see you later, love you, bye." Those words there are the tail end of a telephone conversation I just had with Eric, while Cobie sits and waits patiently for me to be done.

"I still can't believe you married the grumpy old motherfucker," he states, shaking his head and laughing to himself.

"Well if I didn't, who else would?" I reply in jest, making him cackle more.

"Seriously though, I'm glad you're happy. I guess he's not too bad, for a filthy bloodsucker," he replies. Of course, for the most part vampire's and Were's do not get along, and the temporary truce Eric and my wolves formed last year to protect me from Russell Edgington is now well and truly over. He sees how happy Eric makes me though, and that is good enough for him.

"He's great." I reply, smiling as I think of my new husband. Cobie just shakes his head once again, and with that we go back to business. I hand him over the box files he has to take care of next before he departs, leaving me alone in my house for the first time in a while. Totally alone too, since miss kitty is with Eric right now. Heading out of my office and into the kitchen, as I walk I take a good look around at my lovely, humble little abode.

I feel sad in a way that it isn't going to look like this for much longer, the way I've had it and loved it since I brought the place four years ago. I've always been so proud of how nice I've got it to look, how I paid for every single thing within it myself out of my own money, how I worked so hard to fund living on my own. I have to think on the bright side though, and consider how much more wonderful it will look once it's all been remodelled. Also, it will be the home I share with Eric. The first home we will live in as a married couple, so I do have that to look forward to. I make myself a cup of coffee and head outside, picturing Eric's rough sketch of the build plan in my head and trying to imagine what it would look like right here in front of me. Alas I fail. I don't think my artistic imagination is highly evolved enough to let me picture something from virtually nothing.

I can't even walk a clear path around pretty much half of the property because it's so overgrown. The clear space where I do my archery is likely to be eaten up with construction though. I might have to see if there's a way around that, or find another clearing somewhere else in the forest to do this. We'll definitely have to get professionals in to take some of the trees down. After noting this and a few other things I head back indoors and finish my coffee, deciding to do a spot of housework before getting ready to see Lafayette and Jesus in just a couple of hours from now. After managing to get the vacuuming done in record speed (I always do when I don't have a cat here who likes to fight with it), dusted, cleaned the bathroom and the kitchen, and changed my bed linen, I'm done. I head for a shower at approximately 6.30pm, figuring I won't need much time to get ready since my destination is only a thirty second walk from my home. Once out and dry I dress and blow dry my hair back to its usual poker straightness, and then apply minimal makeup before grabbing my keys and bag and heading on over. I can smell dinner wafting through the trees and over the space between Lafayette's home and mine, and note that whatever it is we're having for dinner it smell delicious.

"Oh my god, you've actually got a tan!" are the first words I'm met with when Jesus opens the door to me, giving me a warm hug moments afterward. He's right of course. You can't go to both Australia and Morocco and not come back with a little bit of colour. I even sunbathed nude one day just so I wouldn't get any tan lines. Eric enjoyed checking me over to make sure I didn't have any on the evenings too.

"I know, I feel strange not being the colour of a milk bottle!" I reply as I head in and Jesus closes the door behind me. I then see Lafayette emerge from the kitchen to welcome me.

"I got clam chowder and fresh corn cooking up in there, can I get you a drink while you wait for a brother to add his secret blend of spices and...hold the fuck up a second!" Lafayette begins, before snatching my left arm at the wrist and yanking it in front of him as his sentence falls apart. "Girl, what be this glittering away on your fourth finger?" he then adds in a shocked tone.

"Well, I was going to talk to you about that," I begin.

"You better start talking fast honey child, just when the fuck did you and Mr Deadman get engaged?" he demands, but not angrily.

"Well Lafayette, we're not just engaged. We're married," I tell him, wincing in anticipation of his reaction.

"You're what now?" he shrieks, his eyes wide.

"Let me cut in here and give the proper reaction to such news. Congratulations, honey," Jesus tells me, putting his arm around me and giving me a kiss on the cheek with a smile.

"When, and why?" Lafayette asks, still in semi horrified shout mode.

"Two days ago, and because we're in love of course," I laugh in reply, reaching out to hug him while he just looks even more confused. "I need to explain some finer details to you, finer details I need you both to keep under your respective hats." I then add. After three bowls of steaming hot clam chowder, freshly baked bread and plate of corn cobs have been served up on the table outside on the deck, I begin that explanation.

"So he'd actually planned it all along and this thing with the king just sparked him to marry you quickly to keep you safe? Awww, that's so romantic," Jesus states as soon as I'm done, while Lafayette looks thoughtful.

"That pretty much sums it up perfectly. So, big poppa, are you going to speak at all?" I reply, and then ask my quiet friend. I'm expecting some of that famed Lafayette fire to come blazing out and scorch me and my decision, but when he does open his mouth and speak,s I find I'm pleasantly surprised.

"Hooker, you know I gots my own reasons for trusting your new husband as far as I could throw him. That don't mean it extends to how I feel about him being with you though. That dude, he treats you like gold. Not even I can deny that, or the lengths he goes to in order to keep you safe. Blood bond or not, I'm pleased he put a ring on your finger," he tells me, giving me as pleased a smile as he can manage. You have to remember how strong his dislike for Eric is.

"I'm so relieved you've taken it well, it's all I could have wanted. Of course, I am regretful that I just did not have time to invite you. I would have liked to have had you there, and I think you were working anyway," I reply, watching him nod understandingly.

"You both did what you had to do, and it was the right thing to do if you aks me. Now honey child, let me get a better look at that bling, damn!" he replies, reaching out for my hand. "He got an eye for ice, that's fo' sho!" He then continues after I've taken off my bauble and handed it to him for a closer look.

"He does, he has immaculate taste," I reply proudly.

"So does this mean I'm gonna lose my neighbour soon then? I naturally take it you'll be moving in with Eric?" Lafayette asks me as he hands me back my engagement ring.

"Actually no, you'll be gaining one. Eric is moving in with me, but only after my current house has been remodelled and extended," I reply, watching his eyes widen in surprise.

"Well ain't you just full of surprises tonight, hoggin' up the limelight over there, hmph," he replies, taking his smoke box and beginning to roll himself a joint.

"Then someone jump in, I'm all done," I reply, holding up my hands to indicate my finality.

"Oh no, you've got to sit and tell me all about your vacation so you'll be chatting for a time yet. Let me go fetch you a top up first though." Jesus tells me before going inside to fetch a fresh bottle of wine from the kitchen. So as I tuck into my second helping of chowder I relish in once again reliving my vacation memories through conversation. After we're done eating I even quickly excuse myself to retrieve my laptop from my house, so I can be one of those terrible people who show off endless holiday location snaps. To be honest, each picture is different though and Lafayette and Jesus do seem very keen to look through them all. The ones of Eric and the crocodile are particularly amusing to them.

"That one is gorgeous. You both look so in love," Jesus says warmly when he gets to the pictures covering the European leg of our trip. The picture in question was taken by a nice vampire I got taking to while in France. She was Russian, so it was the very first time I got to try out speaking Russian to anyone other than Dmitri or his brother. She said I did very well and made very few mistakes. Anyway, the picture she took I edited to change to black and white. It is of me and Eric standing on the balcony of a restaurant we were at. I'm smiling at him with my hands rested against his chest while he gazes down at me with one arm around my shoulders, the other hand stroking my arm. It is a beautiful shot, candid and lovely. I look from the picture to the couple beside me, and have to smile to myself. Never in the time I've known him (well, as a good friend I've only known him for a year) has Lafayette had a serious boyfriend. Looking at him with Jesus right now I observe that serious is just what they look, very close in their relationship. I'm pleased for him. This closeness is something I point out to Lafayette as I help him watch the dishes a little later in the evening.

"You look stupidly happy with him, you know," I comment as he hands me a plate to dry.

"We both found our prince charming huh, peach tree? Even though yours sure as fuck ain't as charming as mine," he replies teasingly.

"Eric could charm a nun right out of her habit. In fact, I think he has on one occasion a long time ago," I reply, remembering something Eric told me about hiding out in a Romanian convent of all places in the early 1400's.

"That would not surprise me." Lafayette replies, eyebrows raised in mild amusement. Speaking of Eric, when I'm nicely fed and watered (and mildly drunk if I'm honest) I carefully head back to my house and find him standing outside waiting for me. My cat is with him too, weaving around his legs before scampering over to me

"Did you lose your key?" I ask him giving him a kiss.

"Not lost, I just cannot find it right now," he replies as I open the door and let us both in, the cat running on in ahead of us both.

"I would say you should have come on over to Lafayette's, but I know why you didn't of course," I comment knowingly, kicking off my shoes and switching the two freestanding lamps on before sitting on the couch.

"Did you enjoy your evening?" he asks me, removing his black leather jacket and coming to sit down next to me.

"I did, did you? What have you been doing?" I ask him as I get up again and head to the kitchen to fetch myself another glass of wine. Red after white, I better make this my last. Otherwise I stand to have a headache in the morning. He waits until I'm sitting beside him again before he answers.

"Having an otherwise good evening ruined by the fact the king's Louisiana representative, the 'general' as he referred to himself as in charge of all state vampire affairs while the king is away. This will be much of the time as well, since he plans to mainly reside in New York three weeks out of four. So for three weeks of each month I have to deal with Quentin fucking Rothman," he replies, practically biting off and spitting out the name of the general.

"Quentin Rothman, the name alone sounds slimy for some reason," I reply, while he pulls my legs up across his lap and slides a hand under my long dark purple dress to stroke my legs. I'm wearing a summer maxi dress, but I've teamed it with a warm cropped waist cardigan to keep out the spring chill. I haven't quite got used to dressing in non-summery clothing after being in Morocco.

"He is. He's an arrogant, pompous little asshole. He tried to physically take Mai Ling too, and terrified her in the process. He would have hauled her off with him too if I hadn't have told him such behaviour hardy reflected well upon his king. Also, Fabien was in front of her before he could do anything more and told him she was his in all his fanged bared, bad tempered glory," he replies, smiling somewhat.

"He's gorgeous when he's angry, isn't he?" I comment.

"Very," Eric replies. Of course, they were lovers once upon a time. Also as you know, it doesn't bother me at all. "It's safe to say she probably is his right now too." He then adds, laughing a little bit.

"He'll work his way through the whole damn bar," I exclaim lightly, shaking my head as I laugh. It's true, he will. Deborah has succumbed to his charms, all of the female vampire dancers and two of the guys also have too. He's never laid a fang on Ginger though, dismissing her as 'a skank' as he worded it. He knows she'll never sleep with him, but he flirts shamelessly with Pam as well. He's a massive whore.

"Anyway, hurry up and drink your wine. I have plans to work my way through various parts of you." He tells me. I finish my wine in two gulps, and then get carried unceremoniously over Eric's shoulder to the bedroom. I think it's safe to say that tonight has been a good night, one which also only gets better as soon as my bedroom door shuts behind us.


	8. Chapter 8

**bunnychica9 and auroraglider, thank you for your reviews! I've hit a bit of a slump in the writing of this, there's only so much you can enforce a point without it sounding repetitive, isn't there? I'll manage and get through though, I hope, lol!**

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Tyra's POV

His hands grip my shoulders and pin me to the cold, damp floor. I feel my back scraping against it. I feel his stubble scratch my neck, and feel sick at the overpowering smell of him, the smell of sweat and beer. His hands grip me harder, and I feel the bile rising high in the back of my throat as I know what's going to happen. Then he begins to shake me, saying my name in my ear over and over…

"Tyra, Tyra wake up," I begin to hear clearly, the voice being that belonging to my husband, and not Brendan. I didn't suffer from nightmares before what happened to me down there, in the basement of that Mississippi mansion. Coming to totally I sit up with a big jolt, pushing Eric's hands off my shoulders but then throwing my arms around him, still haunted horribly by what my mind just conjured in sleep.

"I hate this," I lament, while Eric lays back down again holding me close to his chest.

"So do I, I can't bear to see you suffer," he tells me, stroking and kissing my forehead.

"I hate to say it, but since all this with the king flared up, they've got worse," I tell him, moving my head to look up at him.

"I know," he replies quietly, turning over and stroking a fingertip down my cheek and over my neck. "He can't get you, not now. I know it's easy for me to say don't worry, because having this new worry is probably the cause of your nightmares being increased, but you shouldn't worry, Tyra," he then adds.

"I know he can't do anything, but it's just the fact he's close to a vampire so ruthless who will do something regardless of our betrothal. Anything he likes by the sound of him. Sometimes, I wish I wasn't what I am," I reply, running two of my fingers up and down the centre of his chest.

"Sometimes, I do too," he replies in a sombre tone.

"If I wasn't though, there'd have been nothing about me that had initially interested you," I'm quick to point out.

"I'd have found something soon enough, believe me," he replies, moving so his face is level with mine and kissing me. He knows he doesn't have to affirm he's with me for me, and not my supernatural status, yet he continues to do so. I still feel so privileged to receive such affections, from a vampire who once had absolutely no room in his heart for what he has now with me.

"You go back to sleep now." Eric tells me after a while, at the precise moment I feel my eyelids growing heavy again. 6am is no time to be awake, especially when you only fell asleep two hours ago. When I wake up again it is at the more reasonable hour of 11.30am. I feel like I could sleep for another hour, but reluctantly untangle myself from the covers and Eric after a few hesitant moments and finally get up. I grab a fresh set of clothes and have to shimmy out from by bedroom very carefully through a small gap since I forgot to close all the blinds in the house last night. Not a lot of light gets to the hallway where my bedroom and bathroom are though, but enough to make blind closing my first job of the day before my usual ritual morning shower.

After showering I go about all my usual morning routine activities such as cat feeding, mail opening and morning paper reading before moving to my little office and beginning my work. I find an email there waiting from Esmeralda to inform me she will not be dropping in the finished accounts in an hour's time as planned, but instead telling me she got in an early start and dropped them all off herself. She's an angel. I begin at a steady pace, knowing I only have two files to do before I head off out to collect a few more after my drop off run, and have completed the both of them in just three hours. As a reward to myself, I close all my files and load my internet browser to call up eBay. I do need a new outfit for the king's party in eleven days from now. I have an arsenal of dresses at Eric's place, but I'm still unsure which of them to choose.

After looking through a couple of stores selling cut price designer dresses, and saving a few I've mentally noted as possible choices I switch off my computer and head quietly back into my bedroom to grab my running clothes. I didn't manage to jog much while on vacation. I used hotel gym treadmills, but they aren't quite the same thing as running through a beautiful forest. Since there's a chill in the April air I pull on a comfortable white hooded top before slipping my feet into my sneakers, and head out of my house to do some stretches on the porch before I set off. As I run, an activity that usually clears my head I cannot help but think about this party with the king. Eric told me I mustn't worry, but I cannot help it.

Few vampires are old enough to know the energy of a Wolverina on first touch and work out that is what we (just myself and Nina so far) are, this much is true. However, being now so close to one who will know for sure and one who will take me with no questions asked does stir up the dread and fear within me. That is only natural I suppose, the correct emotional response to my safety potentially being put into jeopardy again.

"Tyra, listen to your husband. You're not going to be near the new king on a regular basis at all, so stop worrying he's going to steal you away and gift you to his maker." I say to myself before neatly jumping over a fallen tree branch. I can't live my life in constant fear or worry, so I must try and rid my head of these thoughts. I must apply my usual practical logic to this situation as I always do. To be honest, the chances of Aiko finding out what I am are slim, unless he feels my energy. He isn't going to have a lot of chances to do that either, since he'll only be here one week out of four, and has a lot more to worry about than the wife of his Area 5 sheriff. After Eric introduced me as his wife you could see the king visibly lose interest in me. So there we have it. I'm worrying over something very, very small and should stop it immediately.

"Ouch, motherfuck it!" I exclaim to myself after not concentrating properly and falling over a small tree stump. Example one why I should stop worrying, distracted attention leads you to fall over and graze your elbow, forearm and hand. Picking myself up and dusting off the forest floor debris from my attire I continue my run, and push all the thoughts of the king and his evil maker right to the back of my head. Shutting my mental doors on all of those thoughts and concentrating on what I'm doing, I push on and manage to do a lap of the forest and then another on top of that too. I don't think of the king again throughout the day, not until I'm back at Eric's place with him in the evening and am looking through my dresses in preparation of what to wear for the party. Then after that, the days between then and now just evaporate before my eyes, and before I know it the evening of said party has arrived.

The dress I finally decided on is a beautiful Lanvin creation brought for me by Eric as an extra birthday present last year. It is a strapless satin gown in a very deep shade of turquoise, and sweeps the floor even when I put my heels on. I then spend twenty minutes cursing and tutting as I try and pin all my hair up save a few free sections framing my face. The longer it gets the harder it is to pin up. We're dealing with a thick curtain of waist length hair here after all.

"Have we finished swearing at our hair yet?" Eric asks me from the bathroom door.

"We have." I reply, turning around and winking at him as I fasten my small gold hoop earrings into my ears. I turn to look at him properly and as ever am gratified by such a gorgeous sight. I swear Armani suits fit Eric so well they look like they've been cut specifically with him in mind. Tonight he's wearing a black one with an iron grey shirt, and he looks devastating as usual. After heading upstairs to find Pam waiting for us, resplendent in a pink crystal adorned dress we are all ready to leave, and take Pam's more spacious Porsche Cayenne since three of us cannot fit a sports car. Oddly enough, the king doesn't live in the state capital of Baton Rouge, or the more glitzy city of New Orleans. His Louisiana residence is in Alexandria, just over a hundred miles and two hours from Shreveport. Pam drives, with Eric and me sitting in the back amusing ourselves.

"Stop, give me my finger back," I protest, after stroking it down his cheek and over his lips, and him biting it between his front teeth.

"You shouldn't tease me with it then, should you?" he asks me, moving closer and pulling me onto his lap.

"Oh I could have been more teasing. I could have tickled you here, or here or here as well," I reply, staring him right in the eye as I run my finger across his neck, down his chest and then in a circle around his right nipple through his shirt.

"Now it's your turn to stop, before I fuck you right here on the back seat," he whispers, an aroused sounding rumble of laughter echoing from his throat as he kisses my neck.

"You fuck in my car, you buy it." Pam states dryly from the driver's seat, casting us both an 'I mean it' look in the rear view mirror. We disentangle shortly after that. If sex means crumpling my dress and having to buy a Porsche Cayenne, I think I'd rather wait. When we arrive, there's a hell of a lot of drive to cover before we pull up outside a large grey and white stone mansion. A man in a suit holds out his hand indicating to Pam she should stop, and she duly does just by the many stone steps that lead up to the front door. The smartly dressed valet takes the car, and we ascend the stairs to enter a party holding a few surprise guests within. To my eyes they are, at least.

"Wow, full house," Pam comments as we enter, and we immediately greeted by the king.

"Eric, Mrs Northman, Pamela. Welcome to my home, and I hope you enjoy your evening. As you will note there are refreshments all around, and Mrs Northman there is an extensive buffet table provided for my human guests. I am told the chocolate truffles are to die for." Aiko tells us, a huge grin plastered across his face. He's either both extremely nice and hospitable, or extremely slimy. I haven't worked it out yet, but I will.

"I thank you for a welcome most warm, my king." Eric replies with a little nod of his head, before the king excuses himself to greet more guests. As we enter through the welcome hall and head further into the house, my eyes are everywhere. I have to admit it, the king has exquisite taste. Though the welcome hall the walls are littered with trinkets and art hailing from his homeland, and some of the tapestries look to be double the age of the king. We walk across a solid black marble floor (while I shudder to imagine the price tag of such flooring) and enter the large, well I suppose you'd call it a lounge even though it is the size of a small football pitch, and once within its walls my eyes are drawn to even more beautiful artwork and decoration.

"Champagne, madam?" an immaculately turned Japanese vampire who is dressed as a Geisha asks me, carrying a serving tray neatly balanced upon her fingertips.

"Thank you." I reply, taking a glass from the gold tray she carries. Of course, silver would not do. Smouldering Geisha waitresses are not what the king was aiming for I should imagine. To my right Eric and Pam are being served blood in the same style of champagne flute I am currently clutching, but with a twist. The king has hired blood donors for the evening, all smartly dressed humans with their wrists exposed and a little IV line sticking out of them that is being opened and closed to supply fresh blood right from the source. I can't help but notice Eric pulls a slightly sour face after his first sip of blood, after we've walked away from the donor and Geisha girl.

"Not to your taste?" I enquire, gesturing to his glass.

"I've grown very used to and fond of your blood. Anything else tastes almost alien to me now. It would be like comparing a supermarket chain's own brand of scotch to the finest single malt money could buy," he replies, taking my free hand and kissing it to affirm his point. He continues to drink it though, hiding his displeasure well as he nods at various vampire acquaintances while we continue to walk through the room.

"Oh just so you aren't surprised, there might be a few faces you recognise in attendance tonight," Eric tells me as we come to a stop by a large statue of a Samurai slaying a big golden dragon.

"Well I haven't seen Fabien yet and he's meant to be here. Who else that I know are coming tonight then?" I ask him curiously.

"Ahh, I didn't mean people you know personally, darling. I meant people you will recognise from popular culture who were made vampire. The queen of France for one thing, who is a strong ally of Matsukata, and thus explains why she is here tonight, she has a very famous progeny. I believe he is here with her too. Yes, there he is," Eric replies, gesturing with his glass over to where I see a tall man with his back to us, standing next to an even taller woman with bottom length black hair.

"Who is he, or rather who was...," is as far as my word trail gets as the male vampire suddenly turns around, and I see who he is instantly. Eric stifles a throaty laugh when he sees the look of total shock on my face.

"Do you know him?" I question, just about able to pick my jaw up off the floor.

"I do not, but Pam does if you'd like an introduction? Oh, he's coming over anyway it seems," Eric replies, taking a step back and pushing me closer to Pam. I think this is the first time I've ever been rendered speechless as I watch him, the former singer so sexy he made a generation of women want to light his fire. Never in my life did I expect to be standing here now, face to face with who I thought up until now was the late Jim Morrison, lead singer of The Doors.

"Pamela, sweetheart," he gushes, embracing her and kissing her cheek several times. "It's been twenty five or more years, much, much too long. You must visit Paris again soon." He then adds, his grey eyes twinkling at her.

"Jim, it's so good to see you and yes, I must come back to Paris. I miss the fashion," she tells him, making him laugh softly.

"I see you still have such a keen eye for clothes, you do look magnificent tonight. Excuse me, sorry hello I'm Jim. Wonderful to meet a friend of Pam," he then tells me, greeting me in much the same way he did Pam, while I feel like my head is about to blow off. Jim Morrison just kissed my cheek three times and hugged me. What?

"H-hello, I'm Tyra, it's nice to meet you," I reply, giggling a little nervously and shaking his hand.

"Tyra, such a beautiful name," he says, smiling at me and making me truly realise why no woman could ever resist him. The charisma just flows from every pore, but still he has that stillness about him that can only be found in vampires. "If you will excuse me, beautiful ladies, but I have a few more acquaintances to catch up with." Jim tells us before walking away. My mind right now equals blown, utterly blown.

"Why didn't you tell me Jim Morrison was a vampire?" I ask Eric as soon as we turn away, Pam being pulled into conversation with another vampire she knows shortly after Jim's departure.

"I didn't tell you because it simply is not my place to reveal the identity of any vampire without their say so. Lest of all the famous people who faked their own deaths when they joined us," he replies, while I nod, feeling myself calming down a bit after the initial shock. I can wager I probably look a little less like a startled fawn now.

"It's certainly made me wonder about any other people who died in mysterious circumstances, or had such surrounding them thereafter. I remember reading somewhere people were suspicious if it was really Jim in the grave at Pierre Lachaise, because it looked too small for a man of his height. I suppose those people were right," I reply as I slide my arm around Eric and feel him return the gesture.

"Is Elvis about to pop up anywhere?" I ask when we've walked through the room a little more, after a few silent seconds.

"No, I think the king most definitely left the building on that night of August 16th 1977. As far as I know, Mr Morrison is the only vampire in attendance who was once a human celebrity. The other I expected to be here isn't, she'd be holding centre stage if she was. I shall not reveal her or any other identities to you for reasons stated earlier though," Eric tells me while I nod understandingly.

"Oh I wouldn't expect you to. On reflection it was wrong of me to demand why you didn't tell me. Everyone has their right to privacy, vampires included," I reply, feeling a little embarrassed that I did demand why I was not told. That was somewhat immature of me, to expect my husband to indulge me in vampire gossip.

"Wrong is too strong a word. You were curious, which is only natural when presented with vampires you assumed were people dead and gone. I don't want you to feel embarrassed, you were excited and I saw that," he tells me, tightening his arm around me. How well our bond allows him to read my inner feelings. It'd be scary if I hadn't come to think of it so sweet. Pam joins us again when we finally stake out a space over by a couple of huge gold vases, talking to each other and keeping a low profile. Eric is here begrudgingly after all, since he isn't very sociable.

"Pam, I have to ask. How did you end up meeting Jim Morrison?" I question her when she's next to me.

"I visited Paris about twenty five years ago, visiting a vampire friend of mine who worked at the court of the queen of France. I attended a ball while I was there, and at that ball I met Jim. He keeps an extremely low profile outside of the vampire world. As far as he's concerned, he's dead in every sense of the world. He didn't want the life he left behind any longer, so if you speak to him again tonight do not mention his music or former life unless he instigates the topic." She explains to me. I can certainly understand that, and I'm glad she told me too. To be honest, very few vampires like to talk about their life as a human. Of course, I know all about Eric's, but Pam for instance I am hazy on the details. I know she was working as a prostitute in Tallahassee when Eric saved her from being murdered by two assailants who robbed and raped her. Much more than that is beyond my knowledge though, and not something I'd pry into.

After about fifteen minutes we are approached by a couple of vampires wanting to talk with Eric, and Pam makes her excuses while I also excuse myself to visit the bathroom. A bathroom I suddenly realize the king might not have, as far as toilets themselves go. No, he must have one surely for any human staff he has. Russell Edgington did after all. There's one way to find out.

"Excuse me, could you point me in the direction of the bathroom please?" I ask one of the elegantly dressed Geisha waitresses. I notice this one is human. I can tell a vampire on sight now.

"Take the hallway to the right of the stairs, it's the eighth door on the left." She replies, pointing back at the large archway we entered the room through. I thank her and set off back across the room, receiving various looks of unveiled disgust along the way. As you know, some vampires are not human friendly at all and even less to humans in relationships with their kind. After exiting the sea of scowls (and the odd admiring look I happily noted too) I head out of the room and across the welcoming hall, down to the hallway where I've been told the bathroom is located. When I enter, I see it is decorated in the same grand splendour that the rest of the mansion I've seen so far is. The floor is still marble but white and grey opposed to black, and it is laid out in a similar fashion to a bathroom you'd expect to find in a bar or club, but smaller.

A line of three sinks face a line of three stalls, and there is a large wall at the opposing end entirely covered with a huge mirror filling out the space to every corner. I think I just got an idea for how I'd like my new and improved bathroom to look once we begin making firm plans. Upon entering the end toilet stall I turn and lock the door, but before going about my business of relieving my bladder I cannot help but be distracted by the sound of voices coming into the bathroom quite clearly. I turn around, and when I look up I notice a metal grate covering an air vent above the toilet itself. This is where the voices are coming from, the sound being carried through the vent from wherever they are above me.

Just before I return to my intended business and figure it is nosey to listen in on conversations I am no part of, I cannot help but feel my ears prick at a name I hear mentioned. Mailloux is not a common name, but it was amongst certain more northern Native American tribes a few hundred years ago. It also happens to be the surname of one dark haired Mohawk descendant I know called Fabien. Shutting the lid first I climb on top of the toilet and put my ear against the grate so I can hear more clearly.

"...yes, Mailloux recovered the information for me. Turns out they are newly married, he uncovered the marriage certificate from the Queensland office they registered at, and by his own admission he married them in a vampire ceremony when they arrived home. He is qualified to do so, I checked that myself. I would try to tap him for more information, but my other sources do tell me he is close to Northman. Whether or not he is in on all of this, I do not know."

That is the first part of the conversation I catch, those words spoken by Aiko the king himself. It is now that I take my cell phone from my small clutch style bag and quickly search it for the voice recording feature on there. I locate it, quietly and gently lift the grate and then slide my phone inside it and press record to capture the next part of the conversation.

"Northman is close to few, so I would imagine Mailloux is in the know. I take it you are dropping him from your investigation team because of this association with Northman?" I hear a second voice, one I do not recognise asking the king.

"Yes, he is too close to Northman. He could hide information from me too easily to protect him. Have you seen Mrs Northman yet this evening? Have you had a chance to assess her, Rothman? How does she seem to you, in herself?" Aiko then asks. Rothman, that's the name of his Louisiana associate. Quentin Rothman.

"I have, and to be honest she looks perfectly content. He could have her bewitched though...," is as far as Quentin gets before there is a knock at the door.

"My king, it is time for your speech and toast to your audience." A female voice says softly after Aiko has called 'come' in reply to her knock. That is where the conversation ends, leaving me standing here on top of a toilet, retracting my arm from the vent and wondering to myself.

"What on earth was that all about?" I question quietly after I've stopped recording the conversation coming through the vent, and have gotten off the top of the toilet to use it for its originally intended function. What was all of that about indeed?


	9. Chapter 9

**AxidentlGoddess and auroraglider, I thank you for your reviews and really do hope that a few of you so far silent readers out there contribute with a little review too. I like to know whether my work is being enjoyed or not! :)**

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Eric's POV

As I watch the king move forward into the centre of the room, just before calling for everyone's attention I see Tyra walking back through the room towards me. Her faces matches exactly what I can feel coming from her emotionally too, which is confusion. Because of the hush that has fallen over the room, I question her with just a facial expression only when she arrives by my side. She then pulls her cell from her purse and begins to type discreetly.

"I just overheard a conversation between the king and Rothman. They were talking about me, you and Fabien. We need to talk about it quickly, but not yet. It didn't sound from what they said like I was in danger from them. That's the confusing bit," I read when she slips her cell into my hand.

"We're leaving as soon as he has delivered this speech." I type back quickly in reply.

"No, we've only been here for an hour and it'll look suspicious. Another hour or two tops and then we can leave. I think that's best," Tyra types back.

"Yes, on reflection I agree." I type, handing her cell back for the last time, turning my attention then to the king. His speech is full of the usual cliché lines, right up until the end where he pays a touching tribute to his late wife. Well, it would be touching to anyone who doesn't believe he's lying through his teeth like I personally do.

"Lastly I would like to pay tribute to the woman who essentially made this possible. I would have ruled this glorious state by her side, if it had not been for the fluke accident my beloved suffered. I would like to all raise your glasses to toast the memory of my late wife, Sophie Anne Leclerq-Matsukata, who I miss most terribly. To you, my darling Sophie," he says, actually even thumbing the corner of his eye before raising his glass. What a showman. He doesn't have me fooled for a second, Pam neither who I share a discreet eye roll with as we lift our glasses to toast the late Mrs Matsukata.

"Here's to you, your majesty. Here's to the promise that if you ever lay a finger on my wife, you'll join yours." I say so quietly only Pam can hear. She laughs behind her hand for a few moments before composing herself.

"What exactly did you overhear?" I then ask Tyra, turning my attentions back to her.

"Something very cryptic and strange, which I will tell you when we are in a place where the walls do not have ears," she replies, taking my hand in hers.

"Then we're going to take a tour of the gardens where there are no walls." I tell her firmly before walking in the direction of the glass doorways to the side of the room. They lead out to the gardens that flank the sides of the property, and as we walk towards the door I make sure we move slowly and naturally, not wanting to attract the king or any of his associates' attention by storming off suddenly.

"Okay, this is enough distance between us and anyone else. What did you hear, and where did you hear it?" I ask Tyra as soon as we're a good distance from the house, walking a gravel path lined with small shrubs and lights built into the bricks edging it.

"I was in the bathroom, and I heard the sound of voices coming from the air vent. I wasn't going to pay attention to them, until I heard Fabien's surname mentioned. So I climbed up onto the toilet in order to get my ear closer to the vent, and I heard the conversation almost perfectly. I even recorded half of it, but to cover the half I didn't the following is what I remember was said.

"It was the king and Rothman conversing, and the king started off by saying that he'd had Fabien look into the details of our marriage and that he'd admitted he'd married us in a vampire ceremony when we arrived back home. The king then said he'd discovered Fabien was too close to you, and wondered if he was 'in the know' about something. I don't know what," she begins, pausing for breath while pulling her cell out of her purse. I then listen to a conversation between the two vampires that comprises of the following details. They are that Fabien is too close to me and being 'in the know' and because of this he is being dropped from an investigation team.

Also, which is the thing that throws me completely, is the fact the king asked if Rothman if he had 'assessed' Tyra. He asked how she seemed; meaning if she looked content if the answer Rothman gave was anything to go by. The king's representative also pondered whether I have Tyra bewitched. For what reason I'd do that for, the reason they think at least, completely escapes me. I do not have a clue. Just as much as I don't understand why this conversation should hint to the fact he knows what Tyra is, but then ask how she seemed. This is very, very strange.

"So do you have any idea as to what the hell all that means?" Tyra then asks me. I pull myself from my thoughts and look back at her before replying.

"I'll start by asking what your intuition tells you. What does it tell you?" I ask her as we proceed along the gravel path.

"To me it sounds like the king thinks I'm in danger of you, but how and why he thinks that I don't know! I couldn't be happier than I am now," she replies, sounding as perplexed as I feel.

"That is the same as what I think too. It also sounds to me that he knows what you are and is investigating it just to be sure. Why he thinks I am a danger to you, I just do not know. I wish you could have heard more, I really do," I reply.

"As you heard on the recording, someone came in and alerted him to the fact it was time to give his speech. I think his office is directly above the bathroom, it must be for the sound to have carried so clearly through the vent. Any further away and it wouldn't have been as easy to overhear. I just wish I'd have walked into that bathroom five minutes previously. I could have heard so much more," Tyra tells me.

"You did brilliantly in your usual quick thinking to record at least part of it. Right now I think our next course of action should be to leave as quickly as possible. Whatever the king has going on involving both me and you, Fabien too, I want you as far away from it as possible," I reply, putting my arm around her.

"I agree, but again not yet. We'll wait a little while first," she replies.

"No darling, I must insist we leave at once. I don't want you to be here a second longer," I vow, moving my arm from around her and taking her hand instead to turn and walk back to the house.

"Then let me handle our exit. I'll fall to my right ten seconds after we enter the room again. If you don't catch me, I'll punch you in the balls as soon as we get home." She tells me sweetly, kissing my cheek and making me chuckle a little. We head back to the doors and exactly ten seconds after we walk through them, Tyra gracefully fakes fainting, and I catch her with ease as soon as she goes down.

"Such a smart wife I have," I whisper into her ear, while pretending to check her over for the benefit of everyone's attention her little stunt just attracted.

"Sweetheart, I think I fainted," she then says after opening her eyes again, her voice whispery and quiet and every inch the distressed damsel. She's so, so clever.

"Yes, you did. So I'm going to get you home at once," I tell her, picking her up easily in my arms as just as the king arrives in front of me.

"I saw Mrs Northman fall, is the dear lady alright, Eric?" The king asks me, looking over Tyra.

"She's fine, she just fainted. I want to take her home though, I think that's best. You will have to excuse us all for the night, my king," I reply, just as Pam comes rushing up. It looks like Tyra's little fainting incident even fooled her, looking at her with concern.

"Of course Eric, I understand totally. Davis, have Eric's vehicle brought around to the front at once." The king orders one of his minions, who scampers away at once. Aiko himself begins to walk back towards the archway entrance to the room, and efficiently clears a path that I follow while still carrying Tyra. Once I've carried her down the steps to the waiting car and place her inside carefully, Pam takes the wheel and I turn back to the king.

"I hope she recovers from her fainting spell soon, for now Eric," the king tells me finally with a nod.

"For now, your majesty." I reply curtly, turning and getting into the back of the car. Pam drives away as soon as the door shuts and once we're out of the sight of the house Tyra sits up properly immediately.

"Well would you look at that for a miraculous recovery," she says lightly and sarcastically.

"Well played, kid," Pam says from the front seat, putting her foot to the floor as we turn out of the long driveway and onto the main road.

"I agree, very well played. He didn't suspect a thing," I tell her, very proud of her actions.

"I'm just pleased to be out of there. I don't trust him," Tyra replies, reaching over and resting her hand on my thigh.

"No, neither do I," I reply, covering her hand with mine and stroking her fingers. "I will say though, what was said makes me feel that you're not in danger from him if he thinks you're in danger from me. It is still striking me all to be very strange though." I then add.

"Are you going to send a few sets of ears in the direction of Quentin?" Tyra asks.

"You must have read my mind." I reply. "Although I do feel now after more thought that I shouldn't be that worried. Neither should you. You're in no danger from me, and if he sends his spies out this is exactly what they will see too. They'll just report back to him that what they see is nothing less than a very happy marriage." I then add, seeing Tyra smile at me.

"Exactly," is all she replies with before leaning over and kissing me. That kiss alone is enough to take my mind off the subject of the king and make it land firmly on her. Even more so when her hand slides across my leg towards my crotch, and even more than that when the car finally pulls up outside Fangtasia.

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Tyra's POV

"I have to confess this has been on my mind since much, much earlier," I tell Eric between passionate, open mouthed kisses as we pant with want for each other. We walk in an entanglement of limbs down the small, dark hallway to Eric's apartment and cast each other's clothes onto the floor as we go.

"I know, and I confess it was another reason for me wanting to leave early. I wanted you so much I couldn't have possibly stayed a second longer," he tells me, his mouth finding mine again and kissing me hungrily as I hear the fabric of my thong snap after one tug from Eric's strong hand. That action is the last he had to carry out to render me totally naked, and subject to his wandering hands.

"I'm so glad of that." I tell him, my final words other than a deep, lust filled groan of 'ohhh!' when I feel him clutch my waist and lift me, biting one of my nipples when my breasts are level with his face. The next thing I know he moves me as quick as a flash and my back is to the wall while his mouth continues to lick, bite and suck every inch of each of my breasts in turn.

Pressing his chest against mine to pin me to the wall, his hands then move to stroke my legs, his mouth now buried against my neck as he groans deeply. He likes the feeling of nails running down his back, which is precisely what I'm doing right now. I move my hands to run through his light blonde hair and slowly down his neck, as one of his moves between my legs. Yes, this is exactly what I need to take my mind off the king and his cryptic conversation with Quentin. Three hours of burning hot sex with my husband will do the job nicely, and as I'm falling asleep in a sexually exhausted tangle with Eric, listening to him telling me how much he loves me while stroking my back, the king couldn't be further from my mind.

As it happens, for the next few days I find it almost impossible to wonder let alone worry about the king and what I overheard between him and Rothman. The reason why is because of something I have come to call hurricane Eric. He's really, really sunk his teeth into this plan to expand my home. The initial frantic days of planning and shoving drawings under my nose, and then me explaining alterations I'd like to him (I cannot draw, he can wonderfully) give way to bigger plans when days turn to weeks. Approximately three weeks to the day we married my father and I meet with a man he recommended for the job.

Eric met with him first two evening's ago, and now he and a few members of his team have come in daylight hours to measure up the property and surrounding area to see if our initial proposed plan will work in the space we have. It is as he is taking a tour of my surrounding property and instructing his team with the measuring up that I receive a text message with a picture attachment.

"8lbs 3oz, born an hour ago and for a baby I must say, she's very beautiful." That is the text accompanying a picture of a very tired looking Nina holding her daughter sent by Agnes. Just as I'm about to reply, I am sent another picture, this time very surprisingly of Agnes cradling the newborn. Agnes and children do not go hand in hand, hence my surprise.

"Oh she's had it at last! Wow, what was she a week late or something like that?" my father asks me as he peers over my shoulder at the picture of Agnes and the baby.

"Eight days late. The last time I spoke to Nina she said they were going to induce her if labour hadn't come on naturally. Oh hold on, it looks like I'm about to have that confirmed to me," I reply before answering my cell.

"My dear, how are you?" Agnes asks brightly on the other end of the line. I like how she always refers to me as her dear.

"I'm well Agnes, are you okay? You sound tired through your usual brightness," I reply, observing that the Norwegian vampire queen does sound weary.

"Nina went into labour here at the castle last night when visiting me, and this is where she ended up giving birth. Thank heavens a vampire friend of mine used to be a doctor before she was turned, or I'd have had no chance to get her medical assistance since we're thirty miles from the nearest hospital up here. I remained at Nina's side throughout her labour, and it was not pleasant. I really felt for the poor child, all that pain and vaginal tearing," Agnes beings, making me wince at the vaginal tearing part.

"It is 8am in the morning here and I require my rest, suffice to say. An ambulance came and collected them both five minutes ago so they are on their way to hospital right now. As I typed in text next to the picture, she is awfully beautiful for a baby. A very lovely little thing, but I am glad her infant cries are no longer filling my home," she continues.

"I can imagine, the thought of the noise alone makes me shudder," I reply with a chuckle Agnes returns.

"If I could drink a brandy, right now I'd have half the bottle," she replies, still chuckling. "So then, my lovely wolf queen, how is married life?" Agnes then asks. She was absolutely shocked to her core when I told her we'd married. She also agreed it was a wonderful idea to keep me safe from the king and anyone else too.

"Married life is wonderful, thank you for asking. I'm currently meeting with the man who is going to extend my house into a bigger home fit for us both, so life is busy as well as very, very lovely," I reply happily.

"It pleases me to hear that, Tyra. Anyway I just wanted to call you to inform you of the news regarding the baby, which she named Milla by the way, after some actress. We shall speak soon." Agnes tells me before hanging up and leaving me to wonder which Milla the baby is named after. Jovovich and Kunis are the only two actresses with that forename that I can think of.

"Well, for the most part what we've measured so far can entirely be done to what your husband has planned, Mrs Northman," Jake Birchlove, the contractor tells me. This rouses me from my thoughts of wondering how many other actresses out there have the first name Milla. I can still only recall two.

"It sounds like you're about to tell me a 'but'," I reply as we come to a stop just past my little archery range clearing that'll be built over. I still haven't found another suitable clearing. To be honest I like this one, but I see it foolish to protest over it. You cannot really choose an archery range over the first home you'll share with your husband now can you? I know I can't.

"Yes, there is a 'but'. Whereas we can build everything you and your husband have envisaged so far, the basement is gonna be a problem because of the lake. It'll weaken the underground perimeters and we'll have water flooding in. If we moved it back a little, out to the road facing side of the new build I know that wouldn't be a problem," Jake explains to me, gesturing between Eric's sketches, his own rough blueprint and the area of land itself.

"To be honest as long as we have one, I don't think Eric will mind exactly where it is positioned.

"Of course, being a vampire he needs a safe place to sleep," Jake agrees.

"Well not exactly, as you've seen from the plans we'd like shadow glass fitted in every window pane possible," I reply, pointing back to the plan.

"You do realise that's going to be about thirty grand alone, just for the glass? I'd have to ship it in from somewhere within Scandinavia, since it isn't available here yet. I do a lot of building for vamps, and this is what they've all been asking for. The price tag and import duties are what put most of them off," Jake replies.

"That's for Eric to realise, not me," I reply politely before we continue to walk around to the side of the lake, following Jake's team of men using tape measures and the like to record their measurements. After another hour they're done, and Jake arranges to meet with both Eric and myself the following evening to go through building material choices for the exterior of the property. Wow, everything is coming together nicely. There's now three Wolverina in the world, my new and improved home is going to be built imminently, and I have the vampire I love most coming to share it with me.

Today has been a day for good news. I think I need as much of that as I can get, since it levels out that confusing pile of crap with the king quite efficiently. When Eric arrives four hours later, the sex he gives me on the kitchen floor really does put the cherry on the top of that too. Nope, I do not think about the king at all, not until about midway through when I see the face of Quentin Rothman quickly move away from the glass pane in my screen door.


	10. Chapter 10

**bunnychica9 and auroraglider, a big thank you for your reviews, as I hope that a few of you (yes, you there!) silent readers will begin to contribute as well :)**

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Tyra's POV

"Eric…Quentin Rothman was just…at the window," I pant in a startled fashion from underneath him. As quick as a flash he and his jeans are up off the floor and heading at a billion miles per hour in the direction of the door.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing spying on us, Rothman?" I hear Eric snarl at the king's representative as I'm picking myself up off the floor and pulling my dress back down.

"Eric, please I'm so sorry. There was no spying I assure you, I didn't mean to see what I just saw. Mrs Northman, my sincere apologies. I moved from the door as soon as, well, as soon as I saw what I saw," Quentin tells me, spreading his arms in an apologetic gesture as he talks, smiling at me just after I've joined them. He actually looks a touch embarrassed, which is no doubt just a façade.

"So if you're not spying, why are you here exactly?" I ask him, folding my arms and leaning against the doorframe, while Eric looms close by.

"The king overheard you and Eric discussing plans for your home at his recent party, and sent me with the details of the company who remodelled his own Louisiana residence. The crew consists of both human and vampire workers, meaning twenty four hour construction can be carried out," he tells me, handing me a card from the breast pocket of his immaculate suit. It's as he passes it to me that I notice his eyes are all over me, but not in a perverse way. Like he's assessing me, to use a word his king used to him when they were talking about me.

"Eric, he sent me here purely to be of help. I wish to apologise also for accosting your barmaid. That was uncouth of me, and I made sure a plentiful supply of roses have been delivered this evening to the lovely Mai Ling in way of apology. Well, my business is done here. I once again apologise for interrupting what I interrupted, and bid you both goodnight." Quentin then says, before walking back to the large Chrysler parked in my driveway and having the driver get out to open the rear door for him.

"Hmmmmm," is the first word (well, noise) I say as soon as the car begins to reverse.

"Hmmmmm indeed," Eric replies as we walk back inside. "He's trying to keep tabs on me, the king that is. Providing us with a construction team is a way he can do that discreetly, that much is obvious. They'd probably bug the whole house too while they were at it," he then says as we sit down on the couch.

"Eric, do you ever think you might be worrying prematurely? That perhaps you're maybe a touch paranoid?" I ask him gently.

"No, I don't. I'm being vigilant," he replies, staring at me firmly.

"I think it is a little paranoid," I begin, deciding to voice a few thoughts I've been trying on for size. "I mean, regarding that whole conversation I overheard, did you ever stop to think that the 'in the know' Fabien could be in over is the fact we weren't married in a vampire ceremony until we came home? And also, that when he refers to me being safe with you, it's because you've a reputation of being a rather formidable, pissed off Viking with a temper as lethal as his wrath?" I ask him, raising my eyebrows.

"I believe they call that kind of thing wishful thinking," Eric replies, making me roll my eyes. I refuse to let the events of last year ultimately leave me with a suspicious nature. Eric's has been ingrained for centuries though.

"It might not be detrimental though. Eric, he's been here a month. Do you not think if he had the slightest inkling over what I am, he'd have told his maker by now?" I ask him, wondering if I can perhaps make him see a little logic. I don't trust him, the king, but I'm unsure as to what he actually knows or doesn't.

"That would imply he actually gives a damn about you regardless of what you are, which I do not think is the case at all. All I know is that I'm having Quentin watched, and ears turned in certain directions up in New York too. I have substantial weight among a few up there. I suspect everything related to the king, and every gesture he makes. You should too," Eric replies, while I nod but still do not look or feel agreeing.

"I think I'd like to know what information these watchers and ears return before I form a solid opinion on all of this. I'm not ready to resume looking over my shoulder all the time. I like not having to worry," I tell him adamantly. Is this just wishful thinking? I've never really been the type to do so before now.

"Let us speak of it no more then." He replies finally, putting an arm around me and pulling me back against his chest. I'm very happy with speaking of it no more. Let's face it, he could do something, he could not. Why live in fear over something that might not be?

"So how did the meeting with Jake Birchlove go? I was too consumed with lust to ask when I first arrived, as you probably noticed," Eric then asks me, after a few silent moments of cuddling.

"It went very well, and all is to the plan apart from the positioning of the basement. Because of it being too close to the side of the lake where you originally wanted it on the plan Jake suggested we move it back. He's pegged out the space of land he suggested we do this in, come on I'll show you," I reply before heaving myself up from the couch.

"Yes, right here will be fine," Eric tells me a time later when we're to the side of my house treading through the already trampled undergrowth.

"Good. Oh I almost forgot to tell you, Nina gave birth this morning," I reply, suddenly remembering that very piece of news.

"Ahh, so two are now officially three. Wonderful," he replies, not exactly looking enthralled but not completely dismissing of the news either.

"Agnes was with her the whole way through. Nina went into labour and then ended up giving birth at the castle. I even have a picture of her holding the baby," I tell him, watching him raise his eyebrows in disbelief. Once we've ceased our rambling outdoors we head back in and I show him the photographic evidence of what I just told him.

"Wonders never cease," he comments before handing the phone back to me.

"Oh she was pleased when little Milla and her mother left. I don't blame her. That noise, the crying. It goes right through me," I reply, shuddering and thinking myself lucky pregnancy is never going to happen to me. If I needed to be I'd probably have my fallopian tubes tied, but it isn't necessary since I'm married to a vampire. As you know, vampires shoot blanks, dead sperm. So for us, having that crop up accidentally will never happen. We move back through to the lounge and I happily resume my position curled up against his chest, content to do nothing more than talk to him. We sit and discuss decoration ideas for our new home more than anything.

"I had an idea for how I'd like our bedroom to look," I voice to him, giggling a little when his affectionate finger tickles linger for a little too long against my side.

"Then do go ahead and tell me, my beauty," he replies, eyeing me with keen interest.

"I've loved the room we sleep in when we stay with Agnes ever since our first visit. I'd really like something like that, black with lots of elegant white plaster carvings and the like, with the gold touches too. Something elegant but not overly decadent," I reply while Eric nods.

"I do like that idea. Just as long as you aren't about to take up Agnes' love of taxidermy," he replies, laughing a little.

"That's a little...strange isn't it? The way no matter where you are in the room, whatever stuffed animal she has in there is looking right at you," I reply.

"The fawns in the formal sitting room, the little one watches you wherever you are," Eric agrees as we share more laughter.

"I think I prefer live animals," I reply, watching him nod.

"Don't worry, Poontang, we're not about to stuff you," he then tells who I guess is our cat now as she jumps onto the couch to curl up next to me. Sadly though our peace is interrupted a while later when Eric receives an important business phone call, which means he has to leave.

"I'm sorry once again. I should be back sometime before 2am though. If you want to head to bed early by all means do so and don't wait up for me. Just send me a text to let me know, I can head to Fangtasia afterwards before coming home to you close to dawn." Eric tells me at the door. I bid him farewell with a big kiss before turning back into the house and wondering what to do with the rest of my evening, now I have no husband to occupy my time.

Peeking out of the lounge window I see the light on across the way at Lafayette's place, and decide to head over and see if he minds some company. After knocking twice it is clear to me that he forgot to turn off a light before he left his house, so I decide to walk down to Merlotte's for a few drinks and a bite to eat instead. It takes roughly twenty five minutes to get there on foot, and I walk it happily with the first warmth of spring surrounding me. It turns out that Lafayette is the man who makes my bacon cheeseburger tonight, waving at me as I slide into a booth and have Arlene come over and take my order for that very food item with fries and slaw. While I wait for her to come back with my glass of red, I pull my book from my bag and decide to read to pass the time between now and food. I manage two sentences before I'm interrupted.

"Put that away, you have company," Fabien says as he sits down opposite me.

"And what brings you here tonight, monsieur Mailloux?" I ask him, guessing the reason before he even speaks.

_"_La belle fille. Sookie, Sookie," he replies to me at first, pointing at Sookie before calling to her.

"Yes, Fabien?" she asks, looking like this is probably the hundredth time he's called her over this evening.

"Irez-vous lit avec moi ce soir?" he asks, while Sookie looks puzzled. Fabien doesn't speak with a French accent, but it is his first language.

"Excuse me?" she asks, looking puzzled and shaking her head.

"Ask someone who speaks French for a translation." Fabien tells her with a wink and a mischievous look. She blushes slightly before rolling her eyes and turning to shoot off in the opposite direction back toward the kitchen serving hatch, but not before giving me her usual big, cheery smile. I begin to laugh as soon as she's walked away, picturing the look on her face when someone translates Fabien's words for her. After all, he did just ask 'will you go to bed with me this evening?'

"You'll never give up, will you?" I ask him, composing my laughter and closing my book, sliding it back into my bag.

"Not until I have her. I will, one day. She'll crack, it's started already. She actually let me into her house last night," he replies, while I raise a questioning eyebrow at him.

"She did? She's a wild one," I say sarcastically, but not meanly. Fabien omits a quiet snort of laughter, a few rumbles echoing from his throat too for good measure.

"I got as far as the kitchen," he replies in similar tones.

"You kids were crazy!" I tell him in a silly voice while pointing at him, making him laugh louder this time.

"Shut up, Tyra," he replies eventually while Arlene warily puts my glass of red wine down on the table, looking at Fabien with caution the whole time. In reply to the cautious look, he puckers his lips at her in a kissing gesture. It makes her go bright red, look scared and then scuttle away fast.

"So where is tall and moody tonight?" he asks me, obviously in reference to Eric.

"Out on business, so I thought I'd be social one way or another," I reply before taking the first sip of my wine. It's really nice Claret that I'm drinking.

"Okay, I'll keep you company until he returns then. I need the distraction if I'm honest," he replies, suddenly frowning when his eyes leave mine and land upon the True Blood bottle he's picking the label off of. He removes said frown as soon as he realises I've noticed though.

"What do you need distracting from then?" I ask him, hoping he isn't about to mention something related to the king. After our little visit from Quentin earlier, I've had enough of anything directly relating to Aiko Matsukata.

"The double barrelled barmaid from Japan," he replies. "Well, Brooklyn." He then adds in afterthought.

"Ahhh, Mai Ling," I voice, nodding. "So why do you need distracting from her?" I then ask, thanking Arlene as she brings me my food and hurries away quickly.

"Because she keeps calling me, and doesn't damn well stop," he says, sounding like he has more to add before he pauses and looks back at me.

"Well, the way you are with women, I see why that's a problem for you," I observe, removing the top of the bun from my burger to add condiments. I choose mustard and barbeque sauce.

"No, you don't. Every time she calls, I answer. Happily too," he replies, looking slightly self-loathing as he speaks.

"So you like her? Where's the problem? Or do you like her but have absolutely no intention of being faithful to just her, and that's bothering you because underneath the male slut, there is a vampire who has a lot of respect for women," I reply, watching him raise his eyebrows slightly. Just as any other vampire, Fabien isn't overly expressive.

"The latter of that," he replies. "I love women; you're all such gorgeous creatures. I know I'll never be happy with just one though, and I think as soon as Mai Ling figures that out she'll be off like a shot. She's smart, my bullshit isn't what she'd put up with and that is a big shame. For me it is, at least." He then adds with a slight shrug.

"Just come out with the truth. She's a big girl, she can handle it. Then she'll either agree, or she'll tell you to go fuck yourself. Either way, it isn't like you to dwell on a woman. She must be something," I reply before taking another bite of my burger. Mai Ling is all sass. She'll probably be just as blunt with Fabien as I know he can be too.

"Yes she is, especially since I think that after only taking her out four times. Although on those occasions she stayed with me for two days afterwards. She went to work and came straight back to mine the day before yesterday for example," he replies, again with a shrug like he's trying to discredit the time he's spent with her. "You're right. I'll not be devious and lead her on just because I'm enjoying being selfish. I'll tell her what is what." He says right after.

"You remind me of how Eric acted when he met me. He admitted to me eventually that he tried everything to deny he liked me as much as he did. I see it loud and clear in the way you've just told me. You've got more respect for Mai Ling then you want to admit, even to yourself. Your own selfish reasons aren't the only thing that come into it," I tell him, watching him shaking his head and only just about to hear him muttering something under his breath at my observations.

"Just finish your food, drink your wine, and leave any further opinion out of this. This isn't going to be another case of what happened with you and Eric. Mai Ling might be something a little special, but she isn't as cataclysmic as becoming involved with a Wolverina. It takes a very strong pull, for a vampire to commit themselves to another," he replies. I can't help myself but to give that a reply he will not want to hear.

"Eric freely admits what I am, my supernatural status, isn't the sole reason he's with me. So get out of that one, and the massive denial you're wallowing in." I reply, not meaning to ignite Fabien's verbal fuse. Oh how I pay for it, with him ranting at me for the entire walk home with a million reasons why he doesn't ever want to become attached to one person. I'm not trying to convert him to monogamy, oh no. His own path is of course his own path. I was just pointing out what I observed is all. I can't help it sometimes. I do stop teasing him after his little rant though, being respectfully silent. He'll work it out in his own time, if the tiny little Brooklyn bruiser is worth changing his ways for. Until then I suppose my dear Sookie will be pestered further, as he tries to distract himself with her as I guess he's now doing.

After getting in and getting comfortable with a mug of hot green tea I put on a guilty pleasure comedy movie of mine, Private Benjamin (I'm a huge Goldie Hawn fan, oddly enough as you might think) and relax. I cannot help but let my earlier conversation with Fabien cause my mind to roll back a year, to how life was for me back then regarding Eric. It wasn't easy, that's for certain. This time last year he was sabotaging dates I went on, showing me verbally and physically just how much my refusal to sleep with him wound him up, and a lot more. I sometimes think I was mad to ever be drawn to him, but then I realise of course that he was worth every last ounce of it. He proves that to me without even trying. Something he demonstrates when he arrives home some time later, after I've fallen asleep on the couch waiting up for him.

"Bedtime, my Venusian beauty." Eric tells me softly after scooping me up into his arms. After coming around a little I look at my wrist watch and see it is just past 4am. He puts me down and helps me undress, before going back out to lock up the house and shut all the blinds before undressing and joining me in bed. Back to just me and him. I like it this way. Even though this is something set to be ruined in the not too distant future. Something creeping upon me, on us, even now as I lie here blissfully aware wrapped in Eric's arms.


	11. Chapter 11

**AxidentlGoddess, thank you for your review. I can only hope others follow your lead, as I'm feeling rather deflated that this doesn't appear to be garnering much interest...**

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Eric's POV

"Holy shit! What have they done to my house?" These are the first words Tyra shouts at the top of her lungs on this, the first time we check how building is progressing three weeks after it began. I kept her away for this long, because I knew there wouldn't be much worth seeing before this time. Also because I knew she might get a little upset at seeing people demolishing the home she worked so hard for.

"Started to make it into our house, is what they've done," I whisper to her, chuckling softly at the look of shock on her face. I knew she'd freak out. She doesn't lose her cool often, but when it's either her car or her home concerned she does seem to mislay her composure.

"It looks so sorry for itself, it really does," she replies a little sadly. I think Tyra is a lot more sentimental than she'd ever let on.

"Eric, Tyra. Nice to see you, and if you want to pop these hats on I'll be happy to take you into the site for a proper look around," Jake Birchlove tells us after approaching. He's decided we're all on first name terms now. A little over friendly for my liking, but I keep quiet about it for my wife's sake. She doesn't like it when I'm uptight about little things, so I honestly try not to be. You're probably wondering why since night is the only time I go out that building is carrying on at our new home. It turns out I didn't need to take up the king on his offer of a vampire building crew. Mr Birchlove here has one of his own so work may continue into the night under floodlights, ensuring our build will be done quickly.

We head through what used to be the front door (which has all been knocked away and will have a big double door replacing it) and into what was the area containing the lounge and the kitchen. The kitchen itself will remain for the most part where it is, but it will be extended out into where the lounge once was in a long L shape, meaning that there will be a wall build right across the path you'd take to get from kitchen to lounge. We then head through into a completely open space, since there is none of the original house left (hence Tyra's initial dismay when we arrived) and view where the new perimeter walls are being built, and then onto the area where a large pit is being dug out for the basement.

Tyra still has no clue at why I want such a large basement. She won't know until it is finished that I'm having a little wine cellar built down there for her. I've already begun shipping in some vintage bottles from Italy and France to fill it. I cannot wait to see her face when I show it to her for the first time. Nothing brings this old vampire more pleasure than to make his new wife happy.

"I must say, you have done a lot more than I first expected you to have gotten done in such a short space of time," I tell Jake, who looks very proud of himself.

"You want a house rebuilding in three months, then that's just what I do. I'm actually hoping to have it done ahead of time, and with all the extra cash you've thrown in my direction to achieve this, it certainly shouldn't be a problem." He replies, before a member of his crew calls him away momentarily. When he comes back he leads us around the rest of the site, and already I can see so much of the blueprinted plans coming to life before my eyes. All the small trees and other naturally growing foliage has of course all been ripped away and the ground levelled, the foundations for the building already down and concrete being poured as we stand and watch. This is the same for the rest of the house, and past this point there isn't anything else to see other than where the new back yard will run.

Tyra's house is strange in the respect of how it's laid out. The front of the house isn't actually where you enter. The front door is at the rear of the property, and there was a small path that lead back to the front of the garden, where the back yard was (are you confused yet?). Of course, Tyra by her own admission is not green fingered at all, so the back (front?) yard just overgrew for the most part. Because of the fact I'm planning to have a hot tub built out there (I very much enjoyed the hot tub sex I had on a nightly basis with Tyra while out in Australia) I want to have more privacy, so a large wall has been constructed around the perimeters, with lots of vines planted to creep over it and hide the bricks and a large armoured steel gate for entrance from the front.

"I know gardening isn't your thing, but I cannot believe you've never made use of all this land you have," I say to Tyra as I turn back to her, watching her scan her eyes into the distance at the large expanse of land with its brand new foundations laid.

"Time and money, the typical excuses are what I gave and still do. Also the fact like you say I was never green fingered on a larger scale than potted plants, so I thought it pretty pointless," she replies.

"Well now money is no object I shall hire a gardener to keep it looking good," I offer, not wanting her to have to lift a finger.

"No that's okay, you're actually building me a nice garden so the least I can do is be compromising and look after it," she replies, taking my hand and kissing my cheek as we walk out of the side of the site and back over to her car.

"No wife of mine will push a lawn mower," I snort, perturbed at the very idea.

"Nor will she be told what she can and can't do. Buy me a nice lawn mower and I'll get it done. I'm not above cutting grass," she tells me as she clicks the doors open with the fob.

"If you insist," I reply, actually rolling my eyes at her.

"You know I'm just as stubborn as you. Cease the eye rolling and give me a kiss, please." Tyra replies. I oblige her before she starts the car and we drive away, back to Fangtasia where we both throw ourselves headlong into our separate working endeavours for the remainder of the evening. I take the club office and she stays downstairs in the apartment. When I head below ground at close to 9pm after two hours of work, I find her not looking as well as she did when I left her.

"Darling I don't mean to sound insensitive, but you look awful," I say to Tyra as she works away, sweeping a loving hand through her hair. It's when my hand touches her forehead that I immediately notice her temperature is up by a good few notches.

"I've been feeling a little under the weather all day, but I'll be okay, I'm fine," she replies, taking my hand and kissing it. Right on cue, she lets go and covers her mouth to cough a very raspy sounding cough.

"You're not alright, you're coming down with something," I observe, resting my hand to her forehead properly. She's burning up.

"I'll be fine, it's just a cold or something," she mutters in reply, turning back to her computer. It turns out that fine is what she isn't after another couple of hours, when she's moved onto vomiting into the toilet with her temperature going through the roof.

"You need to see a doctor. I'm putting my foot down on this, and before you refuse just to let you know this is something I can and will do," I tell her, helping her up. "Be honest with me, have you been feeling ill for longer than you say?" I then ask.

"Seriously, this just came on this morning. I felt overly tired and my throat was all tickly like before you're coming down with a cold. Do you remember that feeling?" she replies.

"Just about, but it's the vomiting too that concerns me. I want to get you to the hospital and get you checked over as soon as I can. People do not just start to violently vomit like that for no good reason," I reply, with Tyra sliding out of my arms suddenly to return to the toilet. After waiting until all of the contents of her stomach have come up, I take her straight down to the hospital to get her checked by a doctor. One diagnosis of the influenza virus and a prescription for various medicines later and we've on our way home. The only stop I make is to take her prescription to the late night pharmacy, and the only stop Tyra makes after that is into bed, or so I think.

"No, no bed yet, Eric. I am perfectly capable of curling up on the couch to relax. When I feel worse I'll go to bed of my own accord." She protests when I steer her in that general direction, moving away on her own path to the lounge area and grabbing her bag en route. From it she retrieves her mp3 player, a book and a bottle of water. I leave her to rest shortly after seeing her take her medicines, and when I return an hour later to check on her I find she's fallen asleep. I lift her up and take her to the bed, removing her clothes after I've laid her down. They're damp with sweat, and she's still running a high temperature. Thankfully what she's been prescribed has brought her temperature down a little bit. At times like this, I wish I had windows. She needs breeze.

Thinking quickly, I put a call through to upstairs and have Mai Ling bring down the small electric fan that's usually on behind the bar in the summer months to keep my human staff cool. There, I now have something else to try and keep her burning temperature down. Logic tells me to do that naturally, but alas I know nothing more about caring for a sick human (well, a human of sorts in Tyra's case). Not in this day and age at least. All that changes after a brief peruse through certain medical help pages on the internet, and I am fully informed. It's just a pity that my patient is very impatient, which is to be expected with Tyra.

"Please Eric, I can work in bed I'll be fine. I can't sleep all the time," she tells me the following evening, after I've removed her from her laptop and bundled her back into bed twice.

"I can make time to do your work for you. You're not the only one in this marriage who is good with math," I remind her, covering her up again. She experiencing the shivers right now and while she feels hot in temperature she assures me she feels like she's freezing.

"But I'm so bored, just lying here feeling awful with nothing to take my mind off it," she protests, now shuddering quite violently.

"Then this is why I have taken the liberty of buying you three new books, and I will bring your television down from the basement if you wish me to. I know you won't get a signal down here, but you can watch some of the many DVD's you have stored here too," I reply in a final manner.

"My mind isn't that easily sated." She protests, looking glum. And on it continues, the impatient patient testing my very own. If I thought Tyra was difficult to take care of, then I haven't seen anything yet...

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Tyra's POV

"Oh damn, why do I ever think playing chess with vampires is going to end successfully for me?" I say when Pam easily check mate's me with a move I just did not see coming.

"Well I'll let you off since you do have a nasty case of the flu right now. Your mind can't be completely on it. Wow, you're hotter than the sun," she replies, reaching out to touch my forehead. I somehow don't think the dead are the best measure for temperature testing, then again I suppose they remember it, what constitutes normal and high where body temperature is concerned.

"Thank you for keeping me entertained for a couple of hours though," I reply, watching her nod at me before moving the chessboard again. It's a huge antique one belonging to Eric, and she set it up on the bed over my legs on a couple of dinner trays I had lying around in my kitchen junk. I have an abundance of items that can fall into the general category of 'stuff' that I must sort through and throw out before it's time to move into our new house. I hope it's going to be less than three months until completion, I really do. Eric's apartment is big, but I have a lot of stuff that's littering it at present.

"Is there anything you want to do or something I can fetch you?" Pam asks after putting the chessboard back in its place over at the other end of the apartment, hovering by the door.

"Could you get me another bottle of water please?" I ask her, picking up my flu medicine and taking my require dose plus one more (I can handle it) since I feel so rotten with the remaining water in my bottle. Pam nods and disappears, returning moments later with four small bottles from the fridge in the bar, taking one and holding it to my head after setting the other three back on the table.

"Ahhhh, bliss," I say, smiling at the sudden cold against my head.

"Until the chills come back and you're bundling yourself up in the comforter again, I remember the flu. It was a pain in the fucking ass." She sympathises, leaving me soon after since I've had a wave of tired hit me. Luckily, two days in and mostly all I've done is sleep. That's just what I do after another few sips of water, and this time taking no short nap, waking again at 6am when I feel Eric's weight dip the mattress behind me, his cool body soothing my temperature.

"How do you feel, did you sleep well? I've checked in on you a few times and you've been sleeping soundly whenever I have," he says when I turn around in his arms, pressing my boiling hot cheeks in turn to his chest.

"I feel like utter shit, I really do. It's been so long since I had the flu that I've forgotten how rotten it is," I say, coughing into my hand a few times, having to sit up to have a good hack in the end, Eric stroking my back as I do.

"I sympathise, even though I've never suffered with this flu thing before. It would have probably killed me as a human if I had been struck down with it," he says, holding his hands to my face after I've finished hacking, cooling me down nicely.

"Well I certainly feel like I'm dying at present, dying of boredom more than anything though. What I'd give to sit at my computer and do a few accounts," I grumble, lying down again and resting my head on Eric's chest.

"But you shan't, and I'll make sure of that. Besides, Cobie and Esmeralda have all of your current work anyway. You have absolutely nothing to do but convalesce until you're well again." He says, making me frown. I then have that frown kissed and am given a 'you won't argue with me' stare. I feel too sick to argue, so just settle down next to him and fall asleep a little after he does. When I wake again at 11am I get myself out of bed and go to take a much needed cold shower, one I swiftly change to hot when I get a case of the shivers. This is so annoying. Changing into a fresh pair of panties and sweats I then put on a clean bra and small vest top so I don't boil to death, heading out of the apartment and upstairs to meet Ginger, since I know she'll have just arrived to do the lengthy stock take before she begins work, and she's brought me some groceries as requested.

"I got you what you asked me for, and I made you this too. You might wanna eat it up here though, hon. It's stinky," the barmaid herself tells me, gesturing to the box of groceries I asked her for and also handing me my change out of the forty dollars I provided her with (and didn't expect to see anything left of, to be honest) and a large thermos flask, which after opening I discover contains soup. "Chicken and garlic, it's my mamma's recipe and I think I did alright following it. I didn't put no sugar in it instead of salt like I did last time!" she then exclaims, while I pour myself a cup and take a careful sip. Wow, that's delicious, and I tell her as much too, watching her smile proudly and look relived she got the recipe right.

Ginger's soup is something that ends up keeping me fortified and having some kind of lining to my stomach over the next two days, as I get so sick I barely leave my bed unless it's to go to the toilet, whether that is for normal ablutions or throwing up purposes, and have a very doting Eric taking excellent care of me too as my flu bout runs into day five. It's on the evening of day six as I try to get comfortable that I can suddenly feel something coming from Eric, something that isn't good in his emotions. He's upstairs in the club at present, so I have absolutely no idea what is bugging him and leading to his mood to turn from happy to extremely pissed off and disbelieving, but I find out soon enough.

He enters the apartment, flinging the door open and tearing a path through over to the bed, and I notice that he isn't alone either. A barely dressed in her halter neck top, skyscraper stripper shoes and tiny white shorts woman with long, curly black hair walks in behind him, a baby in a papoose strapped to her chest. Just before I can wonder any longer over whom our guest is, and why Eric has brought her down here without even giving me chance to dress to greet this guest, I see who she is clearly when she takes off her sunglasses, revealing herself to be a very well disguised Agnes. Before I can ask why she's here with a baby under disguise, the Norwegian queen speaks.

"Tyra, as I explained to Eric I am so sorry to just arrive here unannounced, but for safety this is exactly what I had to do. I haven't been followed, thank the stars, my disguise fooled any prying eyes. I just about got the reason of my visit out to Eric upstairs, but he stopped me from saying anything further until we were present with you, so I shall begin. A week ago we suffered a great tragedy, or rather your own kind did, Tyra. Nina was murdered, and little Milla here snatched. It took five days of extreme effort, but we tracked the child down and my associates delivered her safely into my hands, but with me she just cannot stay. Whoever took her, well they obviously know of Nina's Wolverina status, hence killing her and taking the baby, someone they could control a lot easier than a full grown woman, obviously.

"It couldn't be anything else, and whoever took her knows that Nina was close to me, so they'll know I have Milla. It isn't safe for her to stay in Norway, no matter that I am the eldest vampire on earth, the child will have no normal life as little ones should or no safety until I have managed to find who is behind this. Those who snatched her fled before any of my associates could catch them, but they are still being hunted down. For now though I need you both to do me the biggest favour I'm ever going to ask, and look after this child. She has no one, other than the grandparents who legally signed her over into my care and want what is best for their granddaughter. I of course had to inform them of everything so they understood if Milla was placed with them, they'd meet the same fate as their daughter.

"I say this is a favour, but I'm afraid I cannot give you the choice. My trust is firmly placed with you two, and in the interests of not letting anyone else know of this new wave of Wolverina blood, she has to stay with you, an actual Wolverina and her husband, who as the strongest vampire on these shores will be able to protect her as he does his wife. It's sorted," Agnes explains, while Eric and I exchange thunderous looks with each other before both extending those to Agnes. We are not baby friendly people, and with all this interest in me from Aiko at present, we really do not need another Wolverina to worry about. I'm also sick with the flu, but I don't think any of this is likely to factor into the decision Agnes has already made for us.

"Agnes, you cannot cross an ocean unannounced and then just drop a four week old baby off here with Tyra and I without any kind of warning or preparation! I don't know if you noticed, but neither of us are particularly child friendly either, Tyra is also sick at present, and with the king beginning to snoop around us as you full well know, do you really think this is the best possible plan, for me to have two Wolverina's to fret over the safety of? With all the respect in the world, I do not think you've thought this one through as thoroughly as perhaps you could and usually would have," Eric tells her, voicing all of my worries to Agnes.

"Eric, I've done nothing but think about this, and for the safety of Milla here, this is where she needs to be, and you are the one who needs to look after her. This makes the most sense. You can't even pinpoint exactly if Aiko even knows what Tyra is, and to be truthful if he did, marriage or not, his maker would have landed on these shores by now to take her. You know how San Lu is, he makes and breaks his own rules, bends them to his will, you know he's more cunning than you. I'm sorry but this has to be what happens. I'm afraid all I have in way of baby necessities are what is in the hire car I have out front, I couldn't travel with much since I was travelling alone with her, hence my cheap dockside hooker appearance, I had to look as far from my true self as I could. See, I even have bright blue contact lenses in my eyes, and this nose putty is driving me insane," she says gesturing to what I can make out now is a slightly larger, more hook shaped nose. She certainly took the incognito appearance to the hilt, going as far as to change her eye colour and the shape of her nose.

"I'm still saying no. Find someone else to care for the baby," Eric throws at her coldly, eyeing Milla with distaste.

"You don't have a choice, Eric. Milla stays," Agnes warns him, while I just sit and feel my head beginning to spin, that spinning having nothing to do with my bout of flu, and everything to do with what I'm currently witnessing, as Agnes and Eric begin to argue. I haven't even put my thoughts across yet, but I'm siding with my husband.

"Agnes, this idea, well its fucking ridiculous! I can't be responsible for a baby, you know my feelings on this perfectly well, you damn well know if there was even a hint of a chance of becoming pregnant I'd be sterilised, so how the hell can your justify doing this to me, to him too, especially after what else Eric has reminded you of, the Aiko problem at present," I say, getting up out of bed and walking over to them. I wave my hands at Eric immediately when he tries to fuss and send me back to bed, actually slapping his arm and giving him a sharp look. I need to be on my feet right now.

"I understand you're having a strong reaction to this," Agnes begins in a careful tone.

"A strong reaction is the very mildest way to put it. Essentially what you've done is hand me my worst fucking nightmare on a damn plate, Agnes!" I fume, my temper rising dramatically as I cut her up.

"Watch your tone with me, Tyra," she warns me sternly.

"Why the hell should I? You're my friend, not my ruler, not my monarch but my friend. When I'm furious with my friends I tell them as much, and right now I'm furious! Eric is right; putting the only two Wolverina left in the world together in such close proximity to danger is stupid. It's asking for trouble," I reply strongly, not at all willing to budge and inch on this.

"Then if we're friends, you need to see this from my point of view, and understand that Milla will be safest in a location I haven't been followed to. I just spent the last four days travelling with her to ensure I wasn't followed out there, I'm not taking her back to the country she's a wanted baby in," she replies in counter argument, before Eric jumps in all over again and they both start verbally going at it, their tones escalating until they're at full shout and I'm holding my head in my hands. Their noise is soon added to by that of Milla waking up and beginning to cry.

"Well fucking done, Northman! It took me forty five minutes to settle her before, and now you and your shouting have woken her! Here, I'll go and fetch her belongings." Agnes fumes while unclipping Milla from the papoose and handing her to Eric before she leaves the apartment. Eric and I can't even speak, we're too shocked at what has just been landed on us, but in the end Eric holds Milla to his chest and begins to gently bounce her. The look on his face as he tries to pacify her cries though, well it matches my mood, let's put it that way. Before we know it, Agnes arrives back with Milla's things, of which include a travel crib, which is reassuring as I was beginning to wonder where Milla would sleep, and then departs again, saying she needs to leave the area and the country quickly, should she be recognised at all.

"I cannot tell you how grateful I am to you both for doing this. You are forever in my debt. These Wolverina's, we need to keep them alive. If only I could have done the same for her poor mother." Agnes says with an air of finality. Indeed, I am barely even over the shock at being told Nina has been murdered, let alone even beginning to contemplate that her new child is now the responsibility of me and Eric. Just when I thought life was beginning to quieten down again as well.


	12. Chapter 12

**Oh my goodness, guys! Pleased author much? :D THANK YOU so much to str8jacket, AxidentlGoddess, auroraglider, Melusine10 and my annonymous guest reviewer for your reviews! I'm so grateful you've taken the time to do that for me, much appreciated. This story is hard to write, I must say, trying to do the original justice and keep it exciting as well as keeping you all on your toes. I'll manage though, sure I will :) As always, I'm very much looking forward to reading your thoughts over this chapter.**

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Eric's POV

"Stop laughing, it isn't funny!" I chastise Pam with, while getting myself into a mess and trying with everything I can to block out the noise of a howling Milla. I don't like this noise, I am too old for this noise, and I am quickly tiring of this fucking loud noise.

"The video says the tabs just pull away, ah yes, like this. You're pulling them too hard and ripping them right off the diaper. Okay, lift her up and we'll try this one. God fucking damn it, they smell!" Pam replies while I lift Milla off of my desk and she puts a new diaper down. Between us we then manage to attach it to the source of the loud noise, who begins to calm down again soon after. We had to consult the internet and a video on YouTube to see how the hell you change a diaper, since we obviously didn't have a clue how to do it, and from the crying I think that's what she was trying to tell us she needed.

"What the hell are you going to do, Eric? You can do a lot, but look after a baby?" Pam then asks me once Milla is quiet again.

"I have no choice, Agnes made that more and clear before she breezed out of here again. I personally think Milla would be perfectly safe up there in the castle with her, but it's just her own selfish reasons, she'd rather I suffer a new born than have to do it herself, and uses her superior age over mine to keep me in check. If she wasn't who she was, I'd have turfed her straight back through the club doors for this!" I reply, tersely but quietly.

"I can agree with that, I think she's palming Milla off on you purely because she can. I suppose it's a special duty though, guarding the only other Wolverina in existence after her mother was killed. Do they even know how she died? Also, what the hell are you and Tyra going to say in way of explanation over why you've suddenly got a baby?" she asks me.

"They're awaiting the results of the post mortem at present, so far there's no clear way to tell how she died, nothing obvious. As for what Tyra and I will say to explain it, Agnes told me to say we'd fostered her, since as soon as she's found the people responsible for her kidnap and eradicated them she assures me the baby will go back to her grandparents in Norway. They've agreed to everything Agnes has done to keep her safe," I tell her, feeling my inner anger rising again at this situation, a situation I've been landed headfirst in without being able to have any kind of say over. I'm so, so angry at Agnes. In fact, angry doesn't cut it, enraged is closer. I don't need this!

"You and Tyra, wanting to foster a baby, yeah, because no one is going to suspect that at all," she replies sarcastically with an eye roll.

"I know, it isn't likely to look very convincing to anyone, but as long as the queen of Norway doesn't have an infant to look after, all is well in her mind. I don't even know how the hell we can go about immediately looking after her either. I can imagine the immune system of a baby isn't strong enough to fight off the flu, so I'll have to keep her away from Tyra while she's sick, yet we only have one residence what with our new house being built as we speak," I say, Pam looking thoughtful for a few moments.

"Tyra can sleep in my apartment, she can take my bed and I'll sleep in my casket, and then you and Milla have the run of your apartment. I don't think the flu lasts longer than about a week so it shouldn't be for long," she says, just as we're interrupted by a knock at the door, Ginger calling from the other side.

"What the...who's baby is that? Oh, look at that face, she's so pretty! Can I?" she immediately says, sidetracked from what she was about to say when she takes in Milla, holding her hands out. I happily pass the baby to her.

"She's in my care for the foreseeable, she needed a foster home. How do you fancy having your job description changed for a while? I need a babysitter, and you look like you know what you're doing," I then put to the hapless barmaid. Dumb she may be, but she's holding Milla so expertly at present, cooing at her softy, she looks like she'll be more capable than Tyra and I certainly are.

"Sure can, I'd really love to. I like babies, my sister has kids so I'm used to it all," she replies, smiling down at Milla and looking a lot more thrilled to have her in her arms than I did.

"Good, then it can begin now because I need to go and talk to my wife." I reply, leaving the women and heading back downstairs to the most important woman to me. As soon as I enter the apartment, just registering the look on her face, I know exactly what she's going to say before she's even opened her mouth.

"What the fuck, Eric? I mean...what the fuck!" she begins in exclamation, hardly able to get her words out. "We can't look after a baby; we're the most un-baby friendly people I know! I just can't believe she landed all of this right on us, with no word or warning. I'm furious at her! Okay, the poor child needs looking after, needs stability after losing her mother before she even knew her, but us?" she then goes on to say, while I arrive at the side of the couch she's curled up on and sit down, pulling her into a hug immediately.

"It's certainly not what I'd envisaged us ever having to do, but we have to, we've no choice in it. I could skin her alive right now, Agnes, not the baby. The child has done nothing wrong, Agnes knows better," I tell her, trying to make myself think practically about this and get over my anger. That'll be hard though. I'm not angry at Milla, she's just an infant, but I am angry with being told I'm now responsible for her. I have to think clearly though, not let my anger get the better of me.

"You're right, you're completely right. I can't think selfishly when this is about a baby who can't help what she's become a part of, we just have to suck it up and look after her. That doesn't mean I'm not fuming though, because I most certainly am," she replies, the deepness of the frown currently creasing her head making her look older than her twenty nine years.

"Neither am I, but I'm glad you see the practical sense in it. Still though, I'm not looking forward to it. I don't have the temperament for children and neither do you. This will be interesting, if nothing else," I say, standing when she does and walking back over to the bed with her, lying down by her side once she's got in.

"It will be, but right now I'd rather be a bit petulant and angry about it some more still, because really, this is fucking maddening!" she says, getting herself all worked up again. I don't blame her. I'm not exactly feeling calm about this situation. "At least you've done this before, so you sort of know what to do." Tyra then adds in afterthought to her words.

"There's a millennia separating the time I was a father and now, and I didn't do very much to look after the children, not until after Ida had died, and even then it wasn't for long since they all met their deaths not long after their mother. Much has changed, so I'm at square one along with you," I reassure her, because this isn't going to be any easier on me than it is her.

"Well, we'll figure it out somehow, how to manage looking after her. Where is she at the moment?" she asks me, reaching for her bottle of water from the nightstand.

"In the office with Ginger, but I'll bring her back down here soon because at a guess I'd say a four week old baby should be being put to bed at 7pm, but before I do I'm going to need to move you over to Pam's apartment. Actually, no I'll stay in Pam's with Milla, she can move here. You shouldn't have to move anywhere when you're sick, but it'd be better to keep germs away from the baby, I feel," I explain to her, watching her nodding.

"She needs her vaccinations and such like, I think she should have had some by now but they need more than one lot. I'll have to talk to Anna about it; it'll be fresh in her memory with Myra. Just to ask though, who will look after her for the next couple of days in the actual daytime, since I'm still sick?" she asks me, looking a little concerned over that.

"I've asked Ginger to job swap, so when I bring Milla back down here again I'll give her the rest of the night off so she can go home and sleep, and then she'll be due back here at 6am to take over from me. I'll tell her to take her upstairs and look after her in the office so she doesn't come into contact with you. You're the lucky one in all of this. You get to remain unaffected by Milla's sudden arrival until you're well. I now have to go and spend my evening away from you while I look after her. I'm just thrilled at this," I reply blandly, rolling my eyes as I actually sigh. I don't breathe of course, so this gives you an insight into how pissed off I am.

"You don't have to do that. Once she's asleep you can come back here to me, with your hearing you'll be able to hear her cries from in here if and when she does wake. In fact, Pam can either take the spacious couch or wheel her casket in here, and you don't have to go anywhere. Milla can have her own space and we can have ours, it makes sense since our apartment is three times the size of Pam's. That is, if she's agreeable to it." Tyra replies, before stating that she's going to go for a bath. I get up quickly and go to run it for her, before going upstairs to check if Pam is agreeable to Tyra's idea. She is, and with that I consult the internet once more, spending some time reading up on how to care for and general information about newborn babies.

I have a lot to learn and at my superior rate for reading, do so in ten minutes while Ginger sits across from me, gently rocking a sleeping Milla while singing her a lullaby. What makes it bearable is that surprisingly, Ginger has a very pleasant singing voice. Who knew from a woman who sounds like her when she speaks? Once done reading I go back downstairs where I find Pam moving some of her possessions (including her casket which she's opted to sleep in) and then undertake my next job, putting together this travel crib thing that Agnes left with the baby. It isn't overly tasking and all very self-explanatory, and I'm happy once I have it assembled, even happier when after I've called her down Ginger places a sleeping Milla into it. I really don't know what else I can say about this. I think it's all just caught up with me as I stand here and stare down at the tiny, sleeping form in front of me.

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Tyra's POV

"Damn, you look daunted," Pam says to me at close to midnight, after I've woken up from a nap actually feeling a little better that I have for the last five days. I've been sitting here for the last ten minutes just staring into space, everything about Milla's sudden and unexpected arrival into our care racing around my mind. I can barely get my head around the situation if I'm honest, the fact I have to be a mother of sorts to this child. This, this was just not in my plan. I can barely cope looking after Myra if Anna ever leaves her in my care for an evening if she and Dmitri go out, let alone having a baby as a full time responsibility.

"That's because I am, Pam. I feel so daunted I just don't know what to do. I know I have to look after her, Eric and I have no fucking choice but to, but...oh hell! I don't want to! I know that's whiny and childish, I know the poor kid lost her mom before she even got to know her and none of this is her fault, but this is just insane and unfair," I vent to my friend, who nods sympathetically.

"I can't say I'm happy about being turfed out of my apartment because of her, but I do agree with you, it isn't Milla's fault. I just pity you and Eric so much, having had this landed on your laps without so much as a word of warning. You're right, that part is unfair," she says as I get myself out of bed and head over to sit on the couch with her. Just then Eric walks back in, pulling his t shirt off as he does.

"Do baby vomit soiled clothes need anything extra doing to them to get the regurgitated milk out?" he asks, showing us the item of clothing covered in spit up.

"Just rinse the spew off under the tap before you pop it in the wash if you like, but it doesn't need anything special doing to it, milk doesn't stain clothes," I tell him, watching him nod and then go and do as I suggested before he pops his top into the washing machine. Pam used to do all his laundry for him, but that job has been taken over by me now. Eric isn't incapable of loading a washing machine though; he surprises me often when I find he's taken it upon himself to get our laundry done. Once he's changed into a fresh t shirt he comes and sits down with us, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze.

"How are you feeling? Illness wise, not how you feel about Milla being here. I know those thoughts already," he asks me.

"I'm starting to feel a little better, actually. That's a good thing because I know you're going to need help looking after her when Ginger isn't on duty. Stupid she may be, but she's good with kids. She often witters on and on at me about her sisters kids, so I know she's experienced in looking after children," I reply, Eric nodding.

"She's also more than happy to look after Milla as well, so we're sorted there until you're well, where you'll have to become her main carer. It'll be confusing to the child if she sees too much of Ginger and then only settles for her, she needs to know you're the person who calms her distress. I don't know how you'll fit in your work around it, but you're smart, you'll find a way, especially now you have Cobie and Esmeralda working for you. It isn't going to be easy, but we'll find a way to cope while Agnes tracks down who was after her. I really am now convinced it's coming from San Lu, how he found out I just do not know, but it would appear he's after both of you," he tells me, looking pissed off and then some at the end of his sentence.

"Eric, are you completely sure? I mean, it could all just be coincidental. You cannot know for definite the king even knows what Tyra is, or if his maker does. You also can't know for definite if San Lu ever knew about Nina and Milla either, you just don't know. What if another vampire out there has been tracking the Wolverina blood lines just as Agnes has, except with less honourable and protective intentions? There are so many questions with multiple answers to them, and I just don't think the evidence we have so far definitely points a finger at anyone with Japanese heritage, I really don't," Pam then offers to the conversation.

"I agree with Pam, we can't say for certain either way where this is coming from. As for Milla getting more used to me than Ginger, I can see the merit in that, I guess," I interject with before Eric can open his mouth and reply, because I know what's going to come out of it.

"I want to be vigilant, nothing but one hundred percent, and this situation with Tyra and the king is strange enough as it is. I do have to admit that what you're saying, well you do have a point, Pam. Although this now fills me with much concern, if there are more people than we thought out there who know of the Wolverina, much concern." He replies. We sit and discuss it a little more before Eric is needed, hearing Milla crying for attention after about half an hour. This is the way it is until I've had a check over by a doctor, one who comes two days after Milla first arrived, since the baby needs to be seen by someone for her vaccinations. We can't take Milla to a hospital since we are not her legal carers, Agnes is, but in the interests of secrecy we cannot even have any official documentation that she's with us. It'd be too easy to trace. Luckily, we have an ally there.

"Well you're good to go, and besides I just went and gave Milla her vaccinations, so she's covered anyway. Expect to be tired for a few days to come though, not that you won't be with a new baby to take care of! I have to say, Eric looks lovely with her, such a huge vampire gently cradling this tiny little baby," Vivienne Atkinson, MD, tells me after checking me over. Of course, being secretive and an old friend/lover of Eric's, she can be trusted completely, just like she was after my kidnapping ordeal. She showed me a lot of kindness back then. We haven't told her the exact story, but one that ensures she understands the complications about taking Milla to a hospital. She told us that whenever Milla was unwell in the future to just call her first for treatment. She's a wonderful doctor.

"Thank you, for being so helpful. Also I haven't encountered Eric with her yet because I've been ill, but I suppose that starts as of tonight." I reply, Vivienne nodding. She tells me she hopes I enjoy my new found parental responsibilities before leaving, and with that all that needs to be done is for me to acquaint myself with the baby I do indeed have to be responsible for. I cannot even begin to tell you how nervous I am. Over the last couple of days since I've begun feeling better I've been sat up in bed scouring the internet and every single site I could find relating to the care of new born babies, and I think I've got myself prepared. For anything else I have my mom and Anna on speed dial. They both know of the situation, of course. Both received panicked phone calls from me, the tone of which being the simple question of 'what the hell do I do?'

"Here, since you've been given a clean bill of health we might as well move Milla in here with us and give Pam her apartment back. I'll go and gather her things. We really need to think about finding someone to look after her while we go out and purchase everything else she's going to need, more clothes would be the most pressing thing at present, since what she came with has been on rotation through the wash over the last two days. Or I can look after her and give you my credit card," Eric says to me, handing over Milla to me carefully before heading back out again to begin bringing in her things. Looking down at Milla for the first time, I wait to be filled with a sense of protection or even some sort of happiness at holding a baby so gorgeous (because she is, she's beautiful just like her mom was), yet all I feel as I hold her is dread.

"If I can't get this right straight away, well you'll have to bear with me, little baby. Me and Eric, we know we've got to take care of you, but it's fucking scary, kid." I tell her, feeling uncomfortable when she begins to cry. I move her to my shoulder, holding her tightly and gently bouncing her as I do with Myra when she cries, yet she doesn't stop. I get a sudden whiff under my nose that alerts me to why, she's just done a massive crap in her diaper by the smell of it. Thankfully, and again because of my best friend's daughter, I know how to change her.

"So, shall I look after her while you go shopping, or shall we go together? What do you want to do?" Eric asks me as he brings the rest of Milla's things into the apartment, me grabbing a fresh diaper and some wipes from her bag as I move over to the couch.

"I'm unsure if baby outlets will still be open in the evening like the rest of the stores are. I mean they only remain open for vampires and what would they want with baby things? Except us, that is," I tell him while I gently place Milla down and undo her vest. I know I'm going to need to buy about twenty of these when I do go shopping for her, and that is no underestimation. Newborns soil their clothes like you wouldn't believe.

"The department store in Shreveport mall will be open, and they must have a baby section," Eric reminds me, while I make fast work of diaper changing, which is surprising since I haven't done it in months. This will stand me in good stead for the coming months, even though I hope Agnes can come and fetch her back before then.

"Okay then, I'll call Lafayette and see what he's up to. If he's busy I'm sure I can rope someone else in to come with me." I reply, fastening the poppers on Milla's vest again and passing her back to Eric. I dispose of the dirty diaper on my way out (for Eric's nasal comfort we're throwing away the diapers into a bin out in the hall outside the apartment) and then call my friend, asking if he's available to go shopping and for a drink afterwards, because I damn well need one. Luckily since he isn't working or seeing Jesus tonight he's free, but is absolutely none the wiser to the new addition to mine and Eric's lives until he comes to pick me up at Fangtasia, and I tell him all on our drive to the mall. There are certain people, those who already know of my Wolverina status who can know the truth about Milla, and Lafayette is one of them.

"Holy shit, hooker! Talk about unexpected, damn! I bet Eric is fucking thrilled to bits and back over this, huh?" he replies with mild sarcasm as we pull into the parking lot after I'm done explaining the exact reason of our shopping spree.

"Oh yeah, but to be fair he's the one who's looked after her most, been up all night with her changing and feeding her. Ginger's been looking after her in the day, but that ends now I'm well again and it'll be my job. I'm fucking terrified, Lafayette. What if I break her? She's such a tiny little thing, barely eight pounds!" I exclaim in worry.

"You're not going to break her, Tyra. Even though you're not one, you're just experiencing the same fear all new parents do. I have to say, I'm surprised Eric stepped up to the plate as well as he did and didn't hire nobody to come and live with you guys to look after the kid. I could imagine him doing that, but I guess in the interests of secrecy he couldn't really, could he?" Lafayette replies as he swings his car into a free bay with ease.

"That's just what I was about to explain to you. Ahhh, shit. I've had two days to try and get my head around this, get used to it. It isn't working, I'm just...I feel lost." I lament as Lafayette cuts the engine and does what any good friend does when their buddy is stressed. He gives me the kind of reassuring hug I need before I compose myself and we get out of the car, ready to shop for all things baby. A week ago if I was going shopping with Lafayette, we'd be going to pour over beautiful shoes and dresses, or spending a fortune on makeup. How things change in just seven days.


	13. Chapter 13

**auroraglider, bunnychica9 and AxidentlGoddess, big thanks to you, my faithful reviewers for your thoughts on the last chapter! Just to warn you I am only just starting to write chapter 15 at present, so post may slow down to once a week (I'm sorry!) depending on how I go with it. Going to be quite busy over the next few weeks as well, so it'll be as and when I can sit down to write in peace! You all take the time to read my stories, I like to take the time to write the very best I can for you :) As always, I look forward to your thoughts! **

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Tyra's POV

Looking around me at all of the emptied and still full bags, I marvel that someone as small as Milla needs so much stuff. It's 10pm and I've just finished constructing her new crib with Eric's help, and he's currently and very carefully placing her into it. I'm surprised she hasn't woken so far, with all my cursing at not being able to construct her new crib in quite the time I planned to. I do have work to be getting on with, after all.

"This will be so much easier to do, look after her when we're living at the new house. Even though I hope for something miraculous there, that our house is built sooner than expected, and also that Agnes actually finds the kidnap culprits and returns to take Milla back to Norway with her before we even move in," Eric says as he picks up empty shopping bags off the floor and I begin unpacking all of her new clothes. This actually stirs the first heartfelt emotion in me concerning Milla so far, as I take the tags off all of the tiny little (and even I have to admit, cute) clothes. I sit and think how unfair this is, how it should be Nina enjoying her newborn, buying clothes and toys for her with more gusto than I certainly did, and in general just not being as grumpy as I am over the presence of a baby.

"Yeah, yeah I'm hoping so too. Thank hell we had the foresight to have guest bedrooms incorporated into the new house, so at least if she is still with us when we move in she'll have a room of her own. I'm not going to paint it in pretty colours though, she can have a plain white room since she isn't going to be a permanent fixture in our lives," I reply while pulling a tag off of a grey and white striped sleep suit Lafayette picked out. He certainly showed a lot more enthusiasm with choosing clothes than I did. If he and Jesus go the distance, I can see them adopting or having a surrogate to carry a child of theirs. They'd make excellent father's.

"That's a good idea, yes. I'm actually going over there now to talk to Jake about how things are coming along, now you're back to take care of Milla. Give me a kiss, I won't be long, darling." He tells me, coming over and receiving the kiss he seeks before he picks up his car keys and heads out the door, leaving me to fold clothes while figuring out where I'm going to put them. There has to be space in our walk in wardrobe, it's the size of some people's kitchens after all. After all folding has been done I head into said wardrobe and manage to shuffle a few things around, finding enough space to put all of Milla's clothes away and even a spare overhead shelf for folded blankets. I brought a collapsible storage basket I intend for her toys, of which I have also provided her with.

Just as I'm coming back out again I hear Milla beginning to cry, which is the cue for my first time trying to soothe her by myself. I know Eric fed her a few hours ago, but young babies need to be fed on a regular basis so I wager before I've even picked her up this is the reason she's having a shout. She smells fresh at least, so I guess being hungry is the cause. Now, to prepare a bottle, something I don't know how to do. Luckily though, I find the instructions right there on the side of the tub of formula, but I still consult an official YouTube channel about it.

"There, that's what you wanted." I tell Milla as she begins to suck at the teat of her newly prepared bottle a while later, the noise cut out and the room silent again apart from her snuffles and suckling sounds. It's as she drinks her milk that I can taste my last drink on my tongue still, a gin and bitter lemon. I'm mixing myself one just as soon as I'm done feeding Milla, I've decided. Except that once she's guzzled down her feed I have to burp her, and then change my dress when her spit up misses the towel I threw over my shoulder and goes all down my back.

After that she does a fart so loud that if Sookie had her kitchen window back in Bon Temps she'd have heard it, which is means she pooped, and when I'm in the middle of changing her, she pees all over the changing mat, and the sleeve of the fresh top I just changed into. Forty minutes after the original thought and I'm finally pouring bitter lemon into a glass over gin and ice, Milla having fallen asleep again. I take my drink and go and park myself in front of the TV, all ready to catch the documentary on Vlad Tepes that I want to watch on the History Chanel, even though I'm of course anticipating that I'm going to have to pause it to attend to Milla at some point over the ninety minutes. I talked Eric into getting TiVo, simply because I'd miss my documentary fix and he didn't even have a television before mine was moved in here. It turns out I'm disturbed my something much more welcome to my ears first though, the sound of my husband arriving home.

"Get ready to be happy," he greets me with, taking off his leather jacket and hanging it up before moving at speed to my side.

"We can move back in tonight, the house is finished two months ahead of schedule?" I joke, watching him smile and shake his head at my comic hopefulness.

"Well, ready ahead of schedule it will be, since Jake just told me he estimates the completion date to be just six weeks from now. He's hired an extra five vampire construction workers, and they're definitely earning their salaries. They'd erected five interior walls in the time I was shown around by Jake. It's really progressing nicely. The first half of the house is now all done, they're just working on the cellar and the part that stretches up the side of the lake at present," he tells me, smiling widely when he sees the excitement spreading to my face. We're newlyweds who've been put under great duress since we married, and we need to take the small moments of happiness and enjoy them all we can. This is what we should solely be doing, enjoying being a married couple, and not having to worry about Japanese kings with makers who are pure evil or orphan Wolverina babies. Life sadly can't be how you plan it though.

"That's fantastic news, it really is. Not that I don't enjoy living here at the club, but it'll be so nice just to get moved back in and settled. Well, after I've undertaken the mammoth job of decorating the whole place. I'm looking forward to that though," I tell him, watching him frown a little.

"Are you sure you still want to undertake such a task yourself? A decorating team would get it done a lot quicker, as I've suggested before," he replies.

"Oh I'll have a team! I've roped in all my friends, Anna, Dmitri, Lafayette, Jesus, Cobie, Esmeralda, Sookie and even Pam and Fabien both agreed to help. I'd like to have them all there on the same day, but with work and the like I might have to have them come in shifts," I tell him, smiling at my own words there. I didn't have a lot of friends a year ago, I let work rule my life too much and only really had Anna and Dmitri. I'm pleased my social circle is beginning to widen.

"Then I shall bother you no more about decorators. Just make sure it's my credit card you take with you to buy everything you need. I mean it; my finances are now yours too. Actually, I'm just going to change my banking details, have a joint account for us and I'll have my credit card company issue you with another card. You spent a fortune on our vacation, and I have more money than I'll ever know what to do with, so I want you to spend some for me, make our home as beautiful as you are, even though I'm not entirely sure that's possible," he replies, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me close.

"Are you sure? I feel bad, spending money you've earned. You know how proud I am of my financial independence too," I reply, kissing the side of his neck.

"Of course I am, and also as a married woman, you're no longer financially independent. I do respect your work ethic though, and that pride you take. Don't worry, I'm not about to suggest you give it all up and become a kept woman. I know you'd never be happy with that, but I just want to share everything I have with you, and that means my money. You're more deserving of it than any other woman I've been even remotely linked with, because that is what most of them wanted, my cash," he tells me, something I am of course aware of.

"Can I show you how thankful I am over that? In a way you'd definitely enjoy?" I ask him, watching a knowing smile spread across his face when I move to sit astride him, beginning to stroke his chest.

"You most certainly may, but quietly in case we wake up the little ball of loud in the corner." He replies, using what I think is going to become Milla's pet name while we look after her, a little ball of loud. Our couch sex is quick, quiet and extremely hot, both ravenous for each other since I haven't felt well enough for engaging in bedroom activities while I've been ill, and I happily collapse back with Eric on top of me half an hour after we begun, catching my breath as my body trembles with post orgasmic shudders. As it turns out though, our sex life is the first thing to suffer because of Milla. The marathon sessions that last for hours can no longer last that long, we soon find out after a further week.

"You've been fed, you're dry, I do not understand the reason for all this squealing, Milla. I truly don't," Eric tells her, moving from within me to the side of her crib to pick her up and cradle her to his chest.

"I think you've answered your own question there, she just wanted you," I tell him, Milla's cries now beginning to quieten. He doesn't look very impressed by that. She's been here for nine days so far, and to be truthful even taking into consideration his current facial expression, Eric is warming to her a hell of a lot quicker than I am. This surprises me greatly, since he's a vampire of nearly one thousand, one hundred years old, with a very low tolerance for things which irritate him. Milla definitely irritates him, but he's being very good with her so far. He's taken to this task like a duck to water, which does make me feel like I'm the one lacking and lagging behind in my attitude towards her.

"I think it's because he used to be a father and husband when he was a human. It's the protector in him coming back out again after all these years. He isn't happy about having her here, but the protector in him is coming out regardless," Pam tells me the evening after as I sit in the office working, Milla sitting in her bassinet by my side, gurgling contently. Eric is talking with Fabien downstairs over the latter's research into Quentin Rothman, as well as the king himself, which is ongoing fact finding.

"I think so too. I feel guilty, you know, that I don't feel anything toward her, not even a protective streak," I reply, adding up a few figures and entering them in the last spreadsheet cell. That's the books for Fangtasia done for this week.

"Why should you? She isn't your child so try not to beat yourself up over that," she replies, looking over at Milla with distaste.

"I know, but even though Eric still obviously isn't happy about her being in our care, he's still warming to her more than I am," I let her know, turning to look at Milla as well. She's fallen asleep, but I don't expect it to last.

"I still say don't blame or be hard on yourself. Eric loved children once upon a time, he had enough of his own as a human, so it's something he's experienced before. You've never had a maternal streak in you, never wanted children at all so really, I think you're being hard on yourself, expecting to feel something you know you won't and then getting a guilt trip. You don't have to bond with her, Tyra. Just look after her. All she is, she's just a duty. Her grandparents love her, you don't have to." Pam replies before excusing herself to go and make sure we're ready to open up. I think I'm knocking on the wrong door in asking Pam for advice on this, since she's never had a maternal bone in her body either, but I know there's one woman who might be able to let me know if I'm behaving correctly with regards to Milla, and that's my mother. After all, she adopted me and the love she now feels for me can't have grown overnight, even though of course she and my dad chose me as their daughter, and I didn't choose that Milla came into my life. Either way, she's my best bet.

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Eric's POV

"I just can't believe it, you, with a baby to look after, oh that's hysterical!" A highly amused Fabien says as we sit opposite each other on the couches, laughing with mirth so much his fangs pop. I'm glad he thinks it's so fucking funny, because I still don't.

"Equally as much as the fact I can't believe you've shown up here with absolutely nothing further on the king, the death of Sophie Anne, or anything regarding Quentin Rothman other than positives either!" I fume in reply, narrowing my eyes at him.

"I can't help it, Eric. I can't find things that so far aren't there. The man is absolutely golden on paper. He's worked for the king for several years and was the first choice to be placed here to be his representative, and by all accounts every single vampire he's come in contact with all paint him as decent. I know there's something under the surface though, just as well as you do, some deviousness there. I just have to scratch that surface a little deeper. Where's the wife?" he replies and then asks. If I was capable of suffering a headache, I think I'd have one right now. Fabien can usually find any information I want him to procure for me. The fact that in this case, an issue so important and he can't, is pissing me off to the root of my fangs and back.

"I assume there's a way you can remotely bug Quentin's cell phone? As for Tyra, she's in the office working," I say, watching him nod slowly.

"Bung me around two hundred and fifty dollars and I'll download the software to do so. I can have him bugged in about ten minutes. The best thing is that you can then tap into it remotely with another cell and activate his phone's microphone, meaning you can listen in on his face to face conversations even if the phone is on standby or in his pocket. It'll mean carrying that cell around with you constantly, which like your existing one I'll make untraceable, to listen to his calls," he replies.

"I'm aware of the practice of listening in on a bugged line, that's fine. Get it done, go up to the office and pay for the software on this," I say, retrieving my wallet and taking my credit card out to pass to him. Just as he's leaving, Tyra enters, carrying a screaming Milla in with her too.

"She needs to be fed, but I just don't have time, I have to race to finish the accounts so I'm ready to take them back to my clients in the morning. Would you mind?" she asks me, passing Milla to me before I've even chance to answer.

"No, I don't mind. You go back to your work." I tell her with the kind of lack lustre enthusiasm she doesn't even pick up on before she's marching for the door again. She does this a lot, finds reasons not to do her share of taking care of this baby, and so thus it's left to me. I won't say anything for now, I know she's having trouble adjusting to this, getting used to having a baby to be responsible for, but if she thinks I find it easy she's sadly mistaken. Okay so yes I have been here before, being a father as a human, but it doesn't make it any easier for me to cope. I hate having to pacify a screaming baby, I absolutely loathe it, but like I've said before I'm not about to take that out on Milla, or ignore her either.

I'm sure Tyra will find her stride eventually. She doesn't all out hate children, she just doesn't want them herself. If she says anything different then she's lying, as I've witnessed her blowing raspberries on the tummy of her friend Anna's daughter, Myra, and laughing when the child inevitably giggles. Whether Milla will eventually receive the same treatment from either of us remains to be seen. I do feel protective over this tiny little Wolverina I'm currently feeding a bottle to, her energy feeding into me as it always does when I hold her, but I don't feel any kind of affection.

"Well, as I don't live or breathe, since I'm dead, I never thought I'd encounter that, you feeding a baby. Here, Rothman's phone is bugged and this is your intercepting device. Sorry about the colour, that's all they had left," Fabien tells me after striding in, handing me a small, bright yellow cell before he sits down on the opposite couch in the same space as before, looking on at me curiously. "That's so weird, it's like watching a dog ride a bike." He then adds, pointing at Milla.

"I can't very well let her starve now, can I?" I say, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, I'm not suggesting you do. Seeing you personally feeding her though, well it's odd as I'm sure you can see," he replies, again pointing at me and then laughing quietly.

"I do. Here I am, the oldest and most deadly vampire in the entire USA, and I'm sitting here with a five week old baby in my arms, feeding her and also about to be given a shower and then dressed and put to bed by me as well. I want to go and kill something so I feel like myself again, because this, this is not me," I tell him, watching him nod.

"Erm, how can you put a baby that small in the shower? What, do you lie her on the floor or something?" he asks, looking slightly incredulous.

"No, you fool. I just get in and hold her to my chest, simple. Bathing her is loud, she screams like a banshee so I'd rather make sure she's clean quietly. Agnes better hurry the fuck up in catching whoever killed her mother, the people who then snatched her. I'm playing waiting games, Fabien, from both sides. Both sides which I still can't say for certain are connected, but it seems the only plausible way," I inform him, of course referencing my two most pressing matters, the king, the child and all that surrounds them.

"Did you ever consider the fact Russell Edgington might have left an 'open upon the event of my true death' letter containing information the Wolverina uprising, and that it's in the hands of another vampire…," Fabien replies when he sees the look on my face and realises exactly what he's saying.

"Another vampire like San Lu, because I wouldn't put it past Edgington to try and fuck me over from beyond the true death. It's a very Russell thing to do," I say, watching as Fabien looks mildly embarrassed at his words.

"You know, I never thought of that. I was thinking more about the kid when I spoke, until it clicked in my head that Russell would know the king of Tokyo could be a big, big threat to Tyra should he be informed and then cross an ocean, well Tyra and the baby now as well," he replies.

"So bearing that in mind, you have work to continue with. I appreciate your efforts so far." I tell him, dismissing him with a nod. He leaves at high speed and with that I finish having milk regurgitated all over my bare shoulder (I just don't bother wearing a shirt to feed her any longer, or putting a towel over my shoulder since she always misses it) before going to get in a warm shower to wash her. I'd have thought being pelted by water would have made her cry, but oh no three inches of water in our large tub managed it. She hated every second of it, and Tyra came away slightly deaf in her right ear afterwards. That's about the biggest task she's undertaken, giving her a bath. At least Ginger takes her out in her stroller, Tyra hasn't so far. She'll get there though. I'm not asking her to enjoy it, just participate more than she is.

"There, clean, dry, fed, now go to sleep. No, no, don't pull that face. Oh…fuck it," I say around twenty minutes later, both Milla and I dried and redressed in fresh clothes, and her not liking the fact I've just put her down. She's crying again, but I have to leave her to. The reason she's tearful is because I put her down, and she doesn't like it, she wants me to hold her some more. I don't find it hard to, there's no heartstrings being pulled. It's just loud and annoying, so I go upstairs and decide to cheer myself up.

"Come on, you need a break. Let me get you a drink out front," I tell Tyra after entering the office.

"What good timing, I just finished a spreadsheet. I've only two more companies left to do now, so yes I'll happily allow you to provide me with a much needed drink. I'll have a glass of red, please," she says, closing the file she's just finished working on and getting up. Even in a simple khaki green cotton dress that almost covers her feet, belted at the waist with a very thick brown leather belt and not a scrap of makeup on her face, she looks radiant. The club even though open doesn't have anyone here at present, so I stand over at the bar with Tyra while she perches on a high stool, half listening to the conversation between me, Deborah and my wife, and half tuning in to down in my apartment.

Milla is still crying, but it's getting quieter, she's starting to tire herself. It's fading, fading, now just disgruntled gurgles, now sleepy ones, and she's out. Life is normal again. Until, that is, she wakes up again in three to three and a half hours. She'll awake hungry and crying, and I've decided tonight Tyra can deal with it for once. Well, I make it sound like she's never got up to feed her at night and it's been all me rushing back down here to do so, but it isn't. She has gotten up to her a few times in the last four days since she's been well enough to look after her. Tonight though, I won't be as quick to do it first. I want to prompt her to do a little more without actually having to tell her in as many words. I don't enjoy ordering her around. I know I have had a tendency to do so in the past, mainly where her safety is concerned. This is why I shall not be a husband who barks orders at his wife. Not that she'd take that crap from me anyway.

Speaking of which, about ten minutes after Tyra and I have been talking I get a call on the cell linked to Quentin Rothmans. Tuning my ears into it over the music filling the club, I find it's just a mundane phone call from a cleaning company who have steam cleaned some rugs and curtains for the king's Louisiana residence, and so hang up immediately. I can sense I might get a lot of calls such as this one, if Quentin is a general dogsbody as well as a representative of the king as well. This could take considerable time, and many a spied on phone call to actually hear anything of use. Just before midnight though, while Tyra is over talking to Mai Ling about shoes I'd guess, since the latter has one in her hand she's pointing at, I strike lucky.

"He's suspicious of me already, of course he is. You though, well he doesn't know your face. Get close to one of the barmaids or the dancers. I think the cute little Japanese girl is off limits though. Mailloux got quite agitated when I made somewhat of a fumbled pass at her, so I wouldn't bother there. Preferably I'd like you to attend the club a couple of times first though, and look out for any of the staff who appear to be close to Mrs Northman, and go for said person. If we have a link to a friend of hers, we have a link to her to keep an eye on her, which as you know we must do. She has to be watched at all times, we have to look out for it, the first instance, the first moment of anything that could present a chance to act on good reason. Look, I have to go. My dinner just arrived. Call me when you've made contact with a member of staff, Elliot."

Anything to present a chance to act on good reason, is it, Quentin? A plot to snatch my wife for your master's master, perhaps, but yet they just did not confirm that in as many words, so truly I don't know. They sounded on the verge of possibly concerned when overheard before. Now, I'm not sure. Nothing sounds sinister, but then again it could be. This is all so baffling to me, this charade, this ruse, this...whatever the fuck it is. Why are they concerned for her, if they truly are? They barely know either of us. No, no this is them making it appear to other people that they're concerned, case in point Rothman's phone call to whomever this 'Elliot' is, but then that doesn't explain the private conversation Tyra overheard at the party. Whatever the truth is in this situation, I feel it will take me a lot longer than envisaged to uncover.


	14. Chapter 14

**Melusine10, auroraglider and my guest reviewer (please leave your name next time, sweetie, so I can refer to you by name!) thank you so much for your reviews! I have to let you know that this is the only update I'm posting this week, very sorry :( but I'm only a quarter of the way through writing chapter 15, and I'm getting stuck! Need to make it an exciting read for you all, and I'm scared it isn't going to live up to that, so I must take my time with it. Looking forward to your thoughts as ever :)**

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Tyra's POV

"Well, I don't know where Eric is, but I come with milk in some hope this'll pacify you," I tell a crying Milla as I lift her from her crib and then go back to bed to feed her there where it's comfy. Eric's been notably missing over the last few evenings, especially around the times Milla needs feeding, twelve and three am respectively. I'm currently covering a 3am shift, only actually going to bed an hour ago. I have to say I'm a little annoyed, since I'm the one lumbered with her in the daytime while he rests. This should be shared. I shouldn't have to do this all by myself, night and day. Barely managing to stifle a yawn as I feed Milla, I again wonder to myself how this didn't send Anna insane, when Myra was a small baby waking twice nightly for feeds. Well, I say twice nightly. Milla enjoys waking up and shouting for no particular reason too. As I understand this is not an uncommon thing with babies though.

I decide to have a good old whinge to the lady herself about my woes when I meet her for lunch the next day, leaving Milla with Ginger since I want to be able to enjoy my meet with Anna without the squealing brat. I always notice that as soon as she sees Ginger, Milla smiles so brightly you'd think she was her mother, and Ginger is always more than thrilled to take care of her. Some women are just born with that loving, maternal nature, and for whatever else you could fault Ginger for, no one could point a finger of doubt at her skills with children. She'll make a good mom one day, if she ever meets the right guy. Leaving her with Ginger and a pile of beanie baby toys she says will help Milla's motor skills, leaning to grasp and recognise colour (which seems too deep for the hapless barmaid to understand, but she obviously does) I happily head off at 12pm, quickly popping to the book store to collect the biographies I ordered a while ago before meeting Anna at Peabody's Bar & Grill just on the outskirts of Shreveport.

"Hey doll, oh I expected you to have Milla with you. It's why I brought pumpkin with me," she tells me as she stands from the table to greet me with a hug, referencing her little pet name for Myra. Dmitri dressed her as a pumpkin last year for Halloween, and it's kind of stuck.

"I'm just about managing on three hours of sleep, so I wanted some peace after last night, since Eric didn't bother helping me at all," I reply, leaning around to pull a big, comical face at Myra in her high chair, and then kissing her chubby little cheeks. See I know Myra, and I don't have her to look after all the time, and she is my goddaughter after all so I feel warm towards her. Milla I still don't. There's a big block stuck right in the way of me feeling anything towards Nina's child. Her funeral was last week. Eric and I sent flowers from us, and then I chose a separate little pink wreath to be there on behalf of the baby she never knew. When I think about that, I feel stung with guilt, that even Ginger loves the little orphan more than I do.

"I thought you said he was being really good with her?" Anna replies, looking a touch confused.

"He was, for the first fortnight. We're in week three now since we had her landed in our laps, and I think the novelty has worn off, so he's doing the sexist pig thing of letting the wife tend to the baby," I fume lightly, frowning.

"Oh dear, that doesn't sound good. I'm surprised Eric ever did lift a finger to help with her at all, if I'm honest. I mean, apart from that one time last summer when he lay with Myra on his chest to cool her down, he just hasn't ever been around children other than his own, has he? I wonder if he's just finding it hard to adjust. Sorry, it's just that I don't really see Eric in the 'sexist pig' light you speak of, he has enough problems with you doing things he can pay others to do, for example. Sorry if I'm sitting here second guessing your own husband, who you obviously know better than I do," she replies, which is something I cannot deny. He isn't a sexist pig and I was wrong to call him that. I'm just tired and fed up of being on duty with her all night for the last few.

"No, you're right he isn't. He must just be having trouble adjusting like you say," I reply as I pick up a menu just as a cheery looking waiter comes out to ask for my drink order. I choose a small red wine, wishing I wasn't driving so I could make it a bottle. I need a good drink.

"So how are you adjusting to it all?" Anna asks next.

"I'm not really to be honest. I'm just glad Ginger is so eager to help out, she'll take Milla for me without question at the drop of a hat, and Milla just loves her. She just started smiling, which from what I've read is quite early at five weeks old, six at the end of this week, but she never smiles at me like she does for Ginger," I tell her, sighing with frustration.

"The more she gets used to you, the better she'll settle. I suppose if she's spending more waking moments with Ginger then yeah, she might be getting to know her a little better than you. You're smart though, T, you know what to do if you do want the baby to bond with you. Just switch your working hours to when Milla is asleep, and spend more time with her in the day. This also gives your husband a lot less room to vanish when she needs seeing to in the night time, because he won't be able to argue the fair point that you look after her for most of the day." Anna replies, and her words are something I really can't fault either. She's right, in order for Milla to accept me more than she does Ginger, she needs to see more of me out of the two of us. Putting that into practice though, it's going to be hard for me.

I'm just not cut out for all this mommy stuff, hell I'm not even her mother! It's like I have a case of PPD without actually giving birth to the child myself. It doesn't come naturally to me at all. Sometimes I wish I was like Ginger. I think that if I actually liked Milla (I don't hate her or wish anything bad, fuck no!) I'd be able to bond with her more, and that it wouldn't be so difficult for me to see her as anything more than a nuisance. What annoys me most here is the fact that other people can take to her so effortlessly, and I feel like a failure for not being able to step up to the plate, for having a big ole' mental block right there where warming to Milla is concerned. As soon as I'm home for the afternoon, finding the little one and her babysitter in the Fangtasia office waiting for me, I'm shown again just how effortless it is for some people.

"Where's the baby? Where is she? There she is! There's Milla!" Ginger says enthusiastically, Milla smiling and gurgling whenever she pops her face out from behind the blanket she hides behind. See I just can't get myself to even think about bonding with her like that. It's just so against my nature. Ginger is having honest fun with her, I can see it in her eyes, she adores Milla and vice versa. "Look, its Tyra, can you give big smiles for Tyra?" she then adds in that sickeningly sweet, high pitched voice people adapt to speak to babies in as she lifts Milla from her bassinet and hands her to me.

"Thank you very much as usual, Ginger. Was she okay while I was gone?" I ask, giving Milla a quick bounce and heading to put her back in her bassinet before suddenly Anna's words repeat through my head, about Milla seeing more of me and thus becoming used to me, and in turn I her. With that I continue around my desk, position her comfortably laying out against my arm, and then turn to smile at Ginger.

"She was great all day, but you need to keep your eye on her little tushie, she's getting quite a red diaper rash. I put some of the lotion on, but just to be warned if it gets sore she might be awake squealing because of it. Anyway I'm going to get changed into my work stuff, see y'all later." She replies before leaving the office, and me to attempt my first ever bonding session with the little one. Well, I say bonding with her, she isn't getting my sole attention since after five minutes I begin my work, looking down at her every so often as I bounce her on my arm, my free hand crunching numbers into a calculator. About twenty minutes in and she falls asleep, and I work out I have three hours until her next feed to press on and get some work out of the way, the time after which I will solely devout to Milla. I mean it. I'm going to try at this, no matter how much it daunts me.

"Well, there's a surprising sight. What's her favourite today? She really focused on the star the last few times I put her under this," Eric says to me, three and a half hours later as I sit on the rug in the apartment, Milla next to me beneath her baby gym. Oh how she adores this.

"What do you mean a surprising sight? I've been with her most for the last two days, Mr 'vanish in the wee hours' Northman," I reply, giving him a kiss as he sits down and joins us.

"Only to remind you that this is a dual job and just because I'm a vampire does not mean I should be on night duty. I wouldn't mind so much, but Ginger has her for most of the day, every day. Also, it's a surprising sight because you don't spend time with her like this," he says to me. It annoys me somewhat, but only because I know he's right when I begin to think on it a little, the realisation hitting me squarely when it dawns on me suddenly. He just said he's been avoiding the night duties with Milla, and all afternoon I've been thinking that I truly don't spend enough time with her. He's noticed I don't too, and that's something I can't ignore, or throw blame at him like I have been.

"Are you going to sit there chewing the inside of your cheek while you quietly fizz with fury, or actually reply?" Eric then asks me, while I begin to nod slowly.

"I'm sorry. I'm pissed off at myself because I feel like I have to bond with her, I do have to bond with her, and I don't want to. That's what it comes down to. Like Agnes said when she first arrived, I'm having a very strong reaction to this. I feel repelled by her, not warmed or even that caring. I'm going to try though, I really am," I say with honesty.

"To a degree we both have to have some kind of bond with her, we can't just regard her like she's a dog we're looking after whilst its owner is on vacation. It is hard though, hard for both of us, so remember that for the future. I expect you to rely on Ginger a lot less, because for the majority of Milla's three weeks here, it's been that barmaid and me taking the roles of her main carers. I'm just glad that I haven't had to tell you this in ultimatum and that I came down to see you interacting with her completely off your own back. It still bore mentioning though, we agreed to be straight with one another if something niggled us," he replies, leaning over and kissing me.

"We did, yes. I appreciate you've told me too. As for your original question, her favourite is the star again. Look, she doesn't take her eyes off it." I say while pointing at the baby, her eyes fixated on the large, pink glitter gel filled star that she reaches up to bat with her hand every so often. If she likes sparkly things, she'll shit when she meets Lafayette. He's like a walking, sparkly rainbow in attire at times. Speaking of my dear and quirky friend, I receive a text from him at around 8pm, just after I've finished having some very specific alone time with Eric. We have to catch all the moments we can now.

"Jesus made this crazy ass rum cake that's about three shots per slice, Sookie and two bottles of wine have come around, and we all agree there's one person missing in helping us polish it all off. Leave the baby with the dead dude and get yo' sexy ass over here, hooker!" That's the message I read, and I have to say I am tempted. I've got a good bulk of work done already, and spent time with the baby. I wonder if I can swing it, hmmm.

"What's that interested little smile about?" Eric asks as I reach over him and return my cell to the nightstand, leaning back down on his chest once more.

"My Bon Temps buddies want me to come out and play," I reply, giving him a little half smile.

"I'll cut you a deal. You take Milla all day tomorrow without Ginger's help, and I'll cover watching her this evening. You go and spend time with your friends. Not to be insulting, but its good I think, that you have a few more people close to you. Last year that only really extended to Anna and Dmitri, and no matter what I might think of them, I'm glad you're becoming more social and not chaining yourself to your work. In light of that, get your gorgeous backside out the door." He replies, kissing me soon after. In light of everything that happened to me last year, all I went through, you'll remember that I did pledge to have more fun, take life a little less seriously, and make a little room for more friends to come into my life, friends who I arrive with after a half hour taxi ride from the club. It's just as I'm climbing the steps to Lafayette's house that he, Jesus and Sookie all come down them to greet me.

"Oh no, you don't get to fill your no doubt expensive boots with cake and wine just yet, miss thing. We want a look at the digs there over yonder, see what's been keeping me awake at night recently," Lafayette says, making a circle with his finger in indication that I should turn around and walk back down the path once more. Sookie and Jesus both nod rapidly in affirmation of his request, and seeing how excited they are to view the progress on my new home, I just can't refuse.

"Come on then, I wouldn't mind having another look around if I can. It's been a week or so since I last visited," I tell them, and so over to the other side of the clearing we all head.

"So how's Milla doing, sweetie? I can't wait to meet her, you'll have to come up for coffee or lunch or something so I can have a little cuddle with her!" Sookie asks excitedly as we walk, falling into step by my side.

"She's doing well, I'm not though! I'm finding it hard to bond with her, but I'm trying. It is difficult, looking after a baby. At least Eric's had practice before, albeit over a thousand years ago," I say, moving my elbow out for her a little when she links arms with me.

"It must be so, so difficult for you, and wait! Hold up, Eric had practice?" she replies and then suddenly exclaims.

"He was a father when he was human. It doesn't mean he has to like fulfilling that duty in this day and age though, because he doesn't. Even so I have to admit, he's been coping better than me," I explain for her, watching her nodding in understanding. I can trust Sookie with little details about Eric's life just as I would any other good friend (which she's become) because I know she's not the kind of girl to gossip.

"That is surprising, but I guess in a way it would come more naturally to him, since he's had children of his own. Wow, you learn something new every day," she replies as we round the corner and have a familiar face in the site foreman Archie come to greet us.

"Bringing your buddies for a little look, Mrs N?" he asks me, smiling at my three friends before he introduces himself to them.

"Yes, if that's okay with you? I don't want to get in anyone's way," I reply courteously, since Archie calls the shots when Jake isn't here.

"Absolutely, I'll just get some hard hats for each of you and then I can take you in. The kitchen is virtually finished, all that needs now is a coat of paint and the appliances all slotting into their respective places," he tells us. I can feel the excitement building up even before we've entered, and as soon as we do and I see my beautiful, and huge new kitchen, I can't help but squeak with excitement and do a bit of a dance on the spot, making my friends and Archie laugh.

"Peach tree, you're gonna have to learn how to cook a little better, get the full use out of this beautiful kitchen, damn! Show home or what?" Lafayette says, Jesus letting out an impressed whistle as he looks around.

"Nah, I'm just going to get Sookie to come round and cook for me I think," I joke, giving the girl herself a playful nudge with my elbow.

"I will too, but only to teach you a few of my gran's recipes," she replies with a smile.

"I'd really love that." I tell her before we move on from the kitchen. I actually met Adele Stackhouse, just once though. Once was enough for me to see what a wonderful, strong and kind hearted lady she was. She asked me to look over some of her finances, and I spent an afternoon with her at what is now just Sookie's house going through her books and sorting out everything from her bank to her savings accounts while she provided the tea and the most beautiful chocolate cake I've ever eaten, all while her grandson made excuses to come in and out of the house endlessly. 'I think my Jason has quite the crush on you!' I remember the dear lady telling me with a giggle and a knowing wink. She was a sweetheart, and I'm sad Sookie and Jason didn't have longer with her than they did. She didn't deserve her fate at all.

"Oh my...wow!" I exclaim when Archie leads us through the house further and into what will be mine and Eric's bedroom. It looks a lot bigger than the plans first showed it to be, and already as I look around I'm planning on where I'll put things, thinking back to when I sat browsing through some furniture online recently and remembering all the bedroom pieces I liked, imagining them in various positions around the room before we walk on through to the next.

"This'll be perfect for Milla, right next to you and Eric so you don't have far to go to tend to her in the night," Sookie comments as she looks around the room. "With that big tree gone that was previously there too, the light will come in through the window beautifully." She then continues, tapping her neatly manicured, light pink nails off the shadow glass pane.

"Yeah, yeah I guess you're right, it would." I reply with lacklustre tones. I had hoped the baby wouldn't be coming with us when we move in, but it looks like she will be unless Agnes finds whoever tried to take her in the next five weeks before we move back in. As it turns out, of course and just our luck, she doesn't find them, so after those five weeks pass in a blur of furniture, wallpaper and paint buying among other things, the baby comes with.

"Are you sure that's level now, we don't need to move it slightly up?" I ask as Dmitri and I stand poised with a piece of wallpaper, ready to stick it down now I think it's almost level.

"You're eyes are failing you in your old age, Northman. It's totally level so let's just lay it on and move along to the next. We might have this whole room done by 4pm if we really crack on with it," he replies with a little head shake.

"I'm not even out of my twenties yet, you cheeky fuck!" I reply, slapping him around the head with a free hand once I've smoothed down the paper, Dmitri grabbing a brush and tickling my nose with the bristles before he begins to smooth the wallpaper down some more. I'm glad of his help, I truly am. The last time I attempted to wallpaper anything was when my mom and I decided to redo my bedroom when I was fifteen. Dad had to take down what we'd done and do it all over again on account of the number of air bubbles we got trapped between the wall and the paper. Just as I'm standing back admiring the half done bedroom (we're doing mine and Eric's at the moment, after successfully getting the first coat of white paint down in the three other bedrooms this morning) I suddenly hear noise coming our way.

"There's a guy at the door with your lounge in the back of the van, she's hungry and I'm too covered in paint to sign for the delivery and try and put a damn bottle in her noise hole, so we came to find mommy," Lafayette tells me, all of a fluster as he passes me a squealing Milla and a bottle of milk.

"I am not her mother! Thank you for seeing to that delivery though, if there's anything left to carry after she'd fed then I'll come and help," I reply, balancing Milla on my arm and then quietening her instantly with her feed.

"You the closest thing she has to a mamma, hooker." He throws back over his shoulder, while running back down the hallway out to the front door again. Dmitri tells me he can handle doing the wallpaper hanging while I'm busy, and with that I head off the way Lafayette went so I can sit down in the kitchen to feed the hungry bundle in my arms, since the kitchen is the only place in the entire house that not only doesn't stink of paint too badly, but is completely finished as well. I'm mindful over what paint fumes and the smell of thinners could do to her little lungs. Sitting myself down on one of the high stools at the kitchen counter I look down at Milla, and still, after seven weeks of this being my daily routine, I feel no closer to her.

She turned three months old two days ago, and I didn't even notice. Eric did, reading up online about what progress she should be making, and sitting there noting down mentally everything that Milla does, such as lifting her head and holding it up a little, trying to turn over and also all the baby chatter she's coming out with. He'd kill me for telling anyone, but he even copies it back to her, and it makes her laugh. Hell, even Fabien seems warmer to her now, sitting with Eric laughing at her when she was coming out with her loud baby chatter, saying, 'it's something exciting, it must be!' when they looked at each other and then back at the excited, nonsense chatting baby, trying to work out the reason of her joy. He thinks she's funny, he said so in as many words. What kind of person am I, really, if a one thousand year plus old vampire can warm to her a little, and I can't?

"Tyra Northman, as I live and breathe, never did I expect to see this. Look at you, you look so natural with her, not clumsy like you've been telling me," I hear the warm tones of Sookie speak behind me, after hearing her heeled boots tapping off the floor on her way in. I was expecting her around now, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek as she comes to stand behind me, her face all lit up at Milla. "Oh she's so beautiful, those long eyelashes, and these chubby cheeks!" she then coos. Nope, I still don't get any of that either, thinking she's the most adorable thing in the world.

"I certainly don't feel it, I feel all awkward still. You should see Eric with her, he's the natural," I reply, shortly before making a gratefully relieved face when I see Sookie pick up one of the bags she carried in and reveal a massive Tupperware tub.

"I decided to make us all some dinner since we're gonna be here painting and decorating into the evening, it's just a roast chicken and fava bean salad, nothing fancy. I thought with the baby and all the housework you'd be pushed for time to even feed yourself, so we're all good to go. I'm just going to run to the bathroom and change, unless there's someone in there painting?" she asks me. I tell her the bathroom is free and clear, that's another room we haven't started yet so off she goes to change into her painting clothes, giving Milla a kiss on the head on her way out. There's another thing right there, I've never even kissed this child, not once. When is it going to happen, what will it take for me to even feel remotely warm towards her? I can't help but think I've failed her in some way because it just hasn't happened yet, if it ever will.


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey guys! I'm really sorry you've had over a week to wait for this update, what can I say? Writer's block has got me bad and because of this the words just won't come. I have the entire story laid out in my head, but getting it out onto a Word document is nigh on impossible! I should think those reading this who write too will understand my frustration! I don't know when I'll be posting another chapter, but I do hope you can be patient with this. Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter, I look forward to what you all think of this one.**

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Eric's POV

"Well hello, tiny wolf queen, and how are you this morning? Oh, happy to see me, I see so clearly with that big grin, you asshole." Yes, I know, I shouldn't refer to a three month old baby as an asshole, but she is one. She's an asshole because every time she smiles at me, I smile back. She's an asshole because I'm not supposed to get attached to babies, and I have to her a little, I confess. I hate her for being so insufferably adorable, and for rousing that long dead 'male protector' streak in me. I must say it's awfully strange, how it's come to me before it has Tyra. She's still struggling massively with it, and at the moment I'm going through the same problems I was a few weeks back, my wife seemingly very reluctant to take on her full parental duties to this baby.

She coped okay for a few weeks, but now, now we're almost ready to move into our new home (which she and her friends have spent the last week decorating) she's gone back to relying on Ginger or now also Esmeralda to look after Milla in the daytime, and in the evenings she's always conveniently busy with, well, whatever excuse she picks. A hell of a lot revolves around her growing friendship with Sookie at present, and while I appreciate and have no problem with the fact the two are becoming close, it doesn't mean Milla should be palmed off on me all the damn time. I like that Tyra is making more friends, I really do and wouldn't stop her at all. However, when it's be being left holding the baby, I damn well will stop this newly found social butterfly streak in her solely to avoid spending time with Milla. The child will barely settle for her. As soon as she sees me, she's happy, smiley and content, because she actually knows me.

"Oh yes, I think someone will be cutting her first teeth shortly, what with all this chewing and drooling," I tell Milla as she grasps my finger and pulls it up to her mouth to begin chewing it. That's what babies do when their teeth are near coming through, I remember as much with my own children. I should be going to sleep now, but since Tyra stayed at the new house last night with her best friend Anna, I got lumped with bubs here, again, and so my rest cannot commence until Ginger arrives here at 7am to take over looking after her. Tyra text me at 3am last night to say she and Anna had just finished the last of the tiling in the bathroom, and that she was going to sleep. I really do hope that all of this reluctance to be with Milla and look after her evens out once we're all moved into our new home. It could just be because of that, I might perhaps be dramatising the situation.

"There, one fed, clean and fresh baby. Now it's time to play, so let us go and raid your toy box while we wait Ginger." I tell Milla, carrying her to the rug where I set her down to play usually, and then reaching for the soft toys I pass to her in turn, watching as she grasps and studies each of them. Ginger arrives at five minutes to seven, looking thrilled as ever to be spending time with Milla before she takes the baby and all of her stuff up to the office so I can gladly be the dead body I truly am throughout the daytime hours. When I awake in the evening, it's to my favourite sight, my beautiful wife.

"This is a surprise, you waiting for me to wake. How has your day been?" I ask as I pull her down into my arms and kiss her forehead.

"Tiring, but productive I must say. I have all of my work finished and now I'm going to change into my painting clothes and get our house finished tonight, with Anna and Sookie's help. All we have to do then is leave the place to air for a day or so to let the paint fumes out and voila, we can move in. Well, we can when we've received the rest of our furniture," she explains.

"And who will be looking after Milla this evening, while you do all of this? I told you already I'm busy tonight, I have a meeting with Cassius and Fabien," I ask her, interested over what her reply will be.

"Esmeralda and Stanley are looking after her. You know, I never thought I'd see it, a vampire who genuinely likes babies, but Stanley is the first to get up and take her whenever I arrive, so she's staying there until the morning and I'll go and collect her first thing from Esmeralda, hand over her work that she has to do and then take Milla back here, where I'll look after her and not Ginger. She needs a break," she replies, with words that at first make me feel somewhat annoyed that Milla is being palmed off again, but happier when I hear her state she'll be taking care of her all day tomorrow.

"I look forward to the end of the week, when we can be settled in our new home. Pam is too; because of course she gets this place as her brand new, much larger apartment." I reply, kissing my wife again before I let her continue with her evening, getting up and getting myself ready for mine. I don't feel much like dressing up this evening, so keep my attire casual in a pair of dark blue jeans, a deep green t shirt and my leather flip flops, heading upstairs to the club. I expect few people to be there since we've just opened, but find the bar to be surprisingly at least a quarter full. I then remind myself that of course, Wednesday night we run a two for one offer on most drinks (except spirit double measures, or we'd be bankrupt) so both humans and vampires are here in earlier abundance than usual.

As I stroll through the club, nodding at my bar staff as I go, I can't help but notice Deborah has her attention held thick and fast by whoever the vampire at the other side of the bar holding her hands is. I usually don't allow such fraternising with the clientele, but there's no one currently waiting to be served, so I'll overlook it this time. It's just as I'm nearing the exit on my way to speak with Pam that I suddenly get a flash through my head of a phone call I listened in on a few weeks ago. I wonder if the vampire currently wooing Deborah happens to be called Elliot, and if a certain Quentin Rothman sent him here to do exactly what he looks like he's doing, getting close to a member of my staff.

"The guy with the slightly greying hair at the bar with Deborah, have you encountered his presence before?" I ask Pam quietly when I reach her side.

"Yeah, his name's Michael, he's dating her as far as I know. It's a new thing, she met him about a fortnight or so ago at a strip club when one of her friends was having her, what do they call it, the party they throw for the bride to be? Bachelorette party, that's it. Yeah, she met him there," Pam replies while I process her words. Now, reason would usually state here that Michael isn't anything to worry about, but I don't buy that for a second. Why don't I buy it, I hear you ask? I don't buy it because I'd never put it past Quentin to have my staff followed, to make the meet between said member of staff and his mole look completely innocent. Of course he has no clue I'm on to him, but still he's not a dumb man by any means.

"We'll see, thank you for that information." I reply to Pam before walking back into the club and right past Michael and Deborah, who are still fawning over each other. Even though the night is picking up a little I'm quite prepared to let them stand there lost in each other for a short time yet, because as always, I have a plan. Walking to the other end of the bar I curl my finger at Ginger in a 'come here' motion, and then whisper in her ear when she's close enough.

"The old trick, two minutes," I tell her, watching her nod before she goes back to bottling up. I have a little routine I do whenever I want something that happens to be on someone's person, and Ginger pulls it off so well without rousing any suspicion that I always use her. I'll say no more for now, you'll see. I then walk back down to the other end of the bar, attracting Deborah's attention as I arrive at her new beau's side.

"Michael, this is my boss, Eric," she says a little awkwardly, looking a bit shy and probably thinking that I'm over here to tell her to get the hell back to work.

"Pleased to meet you, Eric, and please tell me, do you make a habit of hiring staff as lovely as Debbie?" he says, using the rarely heard affectionate shortening of my bar managers name. I've only ever heard her grandmother, the old witch Beth who was so helpful to me last year, call her by that name.

"Oh I think we both know she's one in a million. You can't be local, I know this because I haven't seen your face in my club before, and Fangtasia is of course the regular haunt for pretty much all local vampires," I reply cordially, keeping a semi smile fixed to my face as I make this small talk with him.

"No, I live in Monroe. I usually drink at the biker bar over there, providing the local wolf pack ain't in there. Fucking smelly dogs," he replies, to which I add the obligatory few bursts of laughter at his observation. I nod, and just as I'm beginning to ask my next question...

"Oh heck and damnit, I'm so sorry, I just about drowned you here! Oh I'm so clumsy!" Ginger exclaims after she's deliberately knocked into Michael's back and deposited the jug of ice water she was carrying on a tray all over him.

"It's okay, babe, only water," Michael replies jovially enough.

"Here, let me take your jacket and go stick it under the dryer in the ladies restroom, it's the least I can do. Again, I'm real sorry, mister," Ginger replies as she takes Michael's jacket at the collar and he shrugs himself out of it, calling for Mai-Ling to bring a mop and bucket while she folds the jacket over her arm. A second later I stick my hand out behind me, and a moment after that Ginger presses his wallet into my hand, which I then quickly tuck into my back pocket. She's not as dumb as some would think, and being sneaky is what she's good at. No one suspects her at all, and I use that to my advantage time and again when I ask her to do 'the old trick', where she deliberately deposits an order all over my unsuspecting target.

"Who wanted the water, Ginger?" I call after her.

"The girls in the corner underneath the big red lamp," she calls back before vanishing into the ladies.

"If you'll excuse me," I say to Michael and Deborah before going behind the bar myself, refilling the jug and adding ice and then quickly retrieving the wallet I pocketed just a second ago and pulling out one of the cards. The name does indeed read Michael, but that's just Elliot Clarke's middle name. Elliot Michael Clarke, you certainly took your time. I then hide the wallet between my hand and the tray I hold the water jug on, taking the smiling girls their water, and noting how thrilled they all look at being served by the club owner himself.

"Oh, thank you so much! It's Jilly's birthday here, and we gotta pace ourselves so we're having water between the alcoholic drinks!" a loud and slightly overweight redhead at the table tells me, pointing at a blonde girl in a sparkly pink dress, wearing one of those god awful plastic tiara's with '21' fashioned in glass jewels on it.

"Mai-Ling, champagne over here, now," I say with a click of my fingers, pointing at the table.

"Thank you so much, that's so generous!" The birthday girl herself says to me, her mouth open a little.

"You are most welcome, and happy birthday by the way, Jilly." I reply, taking her hand and kissing it while giving her a little wink. What can I say? Tyra really brought out the gentleman in me. Yes, I'm still as vengeful and bad tempered as I always was, but a certain edge I had before has been softened since I let the love of a good woman into my life. Nodding to the table of happy looking women I then turn and head back to Michael, pretending to bend to pick something up, that something being the wallet that's already in my hand beneath the tray.

"This must've fallen out when Ginger took your coat. I apologise for her clumsiness. Now if you'll excuse me I need a moment with Deborah. Excuse us." I tell 'Michael' once I've handed him his wallet. I head to my office and then keep going down to the basement once I know Deborah is right behind me, not wanting 'Michael' to be able to hear what I have to tell her, should he be tuning his ears into our conversation. I take the extra precaution of going right down to my apartment with her, picking up baby toys and tossing them back into the toy chest as I go.

"Is there a problem? Sorry, I'll apologise now and say I know I was getting a little too caught up in my new guy earlier when I should have been focusing on my job," she immediately says, good employee that she is.

"No, I've no problem there, but I suspect you will after you've heard what I have to tell you. Your new guy isn't who he says he is, and isn't your new guy at all. He's a mole who's been planted here by the king of Louisiana's representative to spy on Tyra. This is to take the sting out of the information I just gave you, and this is to keep on dating him without letting on what you know to him. Keep me informed on anything he has to say or ask regarding my wife," I tell her, pressing two and then three hundred dollar bills into her hand, watching her facial expression change to hurt, and then angry within the blink of an eye. Of course she's going to be upset, I could see with my own eyes up there just how much she's into him.

"That asshole, and yeah, no problem, I'll keep dating him. The Gucci shoes I've been eyeing on eBay can be brought for what you just pressed into my hand, so that makes up for the fact I've fucking been played by him. I don't like being used, but it's for the greater good if it keeps Tyra safe." She replies before I dismiss her and she heads back upstairs. I'm glad I have her support in all of this, because keeping Tyra and the baby safe right now are all that's on my mind. Matsukata, I'm on to you.

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Tyra's POV

"Oh the bouncy, bouncy, bouncy baby, oh yes look at you, laugh at it, that's right, it's our game!" I stand and witness Stanley saying to Milla in a comic voice as he bounces her in his arms, in a way that has the child squealing with joy. Even Stanley, a vampire, musters what I can't; looking thrilled to be holding Milla.

"Thank you both for taking her, I'll be doing this a lot less when we're all moved in," I reply as Esmeralda comes to greet me with her standard huge cuddle before I turn for the door again.

"Not at all, Tyra, you know we love looking after her so you head back and get your decorating finished. Stanley will wait up for you to fetch her in the morning, and I'll see you in the evening with the accounts. Bye for now, chicka!" she tells me before seeing me out, ready to head back up to my house and finish the painting. We've got the lounge and hallway left to do, that's it.

"Oh wow, you've started already? Such good friends I have," I say when walking in through my open front door a while later. I gave them the spare set of keys to let themselves in if they turned up while I was dropping Milla off with her babysitters, and they must've got here literally only moments as I walked through the forest over to Esmeralda's home.

"Yes you do, so you can go and make us some 'I'm so thankful for having Anna and Sookie in my life' coffees to say thank you, can't you? Hint, hint," Anna says with a wink as she rolls the paint loaded roller down my hallway wall. I give her a hug and a kiss, and then bend to drop a little kiss on Sookie's head too before heading to the kitchen. I prepare a jug of coffee and pour out three cups, taking them back to my thirsty workers before we crack on with a night of hardcore painting. By the time we've got the first coat down on the living room the hallway is dry enough to put the second coat on (the extra money for quick dry paint is worth it, and summer helps too) in an impressive space of time.

"Dare I say it? Dare I actually think we've finished?" I say to my girls as we put down our paint brushes and rollers, inspecting our work.

"You go ahead and say it, sweetie, because we are, we're done!" Sookie says in celebratory tones, putting her arm around my shoulders. I rest my head to hers and let out a long, stupid sounding groan and then fall to my knees, making her and Anna laugh heartily. I truly can't believe it, that it's all finished, but believe it I do later in the week when I'm moving the furniture in and suddenly all my mind's eye plans on where to put everything just do not match the reality.

"I think we're going to have to wait for Eric to wake up and help us, aren't we?" I tell Milla after changing her stinky diaper, lifting her up and then experiencing something I never have before. When I lifted her, she smiled at me. She's never done that before. Also, instantly I smiled back at her and felt this fluttery feeling in my chest. Is this it? Is this finally the first heartstring pull this baby has prompted? I don't know, but for some reason I suddenly feel terrified. Taking her to her bassinet I put her back, clicking the baby monitor on and clipping it onto my belt before going to get the one room I've not struggled with finished, and that's our bedroom. Hers is next on the list. All I have to do in here is hang the drapes and short the new bed linen out, oh and then move all of Eric's stuff into our huge walk in wardrobe, which I definitely got too used to living at the club apartment. Pam is so excited by all the space she has now it's hers, and is already enjoying spending her money on clothes and shoes in order to fill it.

"There, all finished and ready to be christened." I laugh to myself, thinking on Eric's comment last night that he thought it only fair we christen every single room of our new house, sexually speaking, that is. I look forward to that. I'm really looking forward to his opinion on the whole house in fact, since he's only seen it pre-decoration. I haven't allowed him to come and see how we're doing with it at all, demanded in fact that he stay away until moving day. Well now the day has come, I've only a few hours to wait until I see my betrothed's reaction to my efforts.

"Well, didn't my beautiful lady do well? I love it, Tyra, and I've only seen the hallway and lounge. It's definitely very 'us' in taste," Eric tells me, three hours later after him and a team of removal men with the rest of our stuff from the old apartment have arrived. He pulls an impressed face at the kitchen although I know it doesn't interest him at all, and with that on we go to the rest of the house, not before I've picked up a tearful Milla on my way.

"I think you'll like it in here the most, or maybe I'm just hoping you will on account of the effort Dmitri and I put in when wallpapering it," I tell him as I bounce Milla, who's crying because she has a diaper rash and is sore. I decide to run the risk of getting peed or pooped on and set her down to remove her diaper and vest, dressing her just in the t shirt she had on so her sore little cheeks can get an airing. It'll mean she's quieter at least, and I cherish those moments like you wouldn't believe.

"This is beautiful, really beautiful. As you'll recall I didn't think much of you using wallpaper at all, I much prefer a painted wall, but I can't find fault with this. The way you've matched everything so precisely too, and the contrasting items look perfect. I love the way this fireplace has turned out. I definitely think it was a good idea to have one in the bedroom. I love it all, and would you look at this new sight I have too, you acting affectionately with the baby," he replies, pointing at me.

"I am?" I ask, unaware I'm doing anything particularly notable.

"Stroking her back like that fondly, I only ever see you do that when you're bringing her gas up after a feed," he replies, smiling at me with a little pride while I notice that I have been doing that absently when I immediately cease my circling hand. I then wonder why I stopped myself, frowning as I look down at Milla while walking on to the rest of the house past our bedroom, my husband too distracted by loving everything else he sees to notice my perplexed face. Finally, I can feel myself beginning to warm a little to this child, and it throws me into a state of panic. Why? Dismissing it as me just being a steadfast non-parental type I shake it from my mind and continue around the house with Eric, until it's time for him to show me something, it would seem.

"I bet you thought you were the only person who had something to show off this evening, didn't you?" he asks me after opening the double shadow glass doors that open out into our back yard. We've got the turf down but the rest still looks a little bit like a building site at the moment. We're awaiting the landscaper to come and begin this after he came to lay the turf yesterday, digging and planting the flower beds and pots, hooking up the little fountain I brought to the water supply, making a start on the rockery, all that kind of stuff.

"I did, but it looks like it's my turn to see something new now. Except I must say, I don't know what's out here that I need to see since what will be a gorgeous garden hasn't been planted and built yet," I say with a shrug as I retrieve a piece of my hair from Milla, since she's decided she now likes to grasp and also chew on my tresses. I don't want her to end up with a hairball in her tummy. A girl in my class at school used to sit and chew her hair, which resulted in her having to have a clump of hair the size of a baseball removed from her stomach when it began interfering with her digestion.

"All shall be revealed, literally," he replies before continuing down along the side of the house, a hatch I haven't seen before just about visible underneath some bags of sand he moves quickly before unbolting the doors across it and swinging them back to reveal a set of stone steps. Ahhh, so this is the basement hatch then, and the position of it is the surprise for me. I haven't even been down here yet, so I'm looking forward to seeing how much space we have here. He switches on a light for my benefit before we descend, and once at the bottom I have to say, the sight I behold certainly isn't what I expected to see.

"Oh no, you did not secretly build me a wine cellar!" I say before my mouth drops open and I just squeak with excitement as my eyes take in the bottles, Milla and Eric laughing at me. "Thank you!" I then add, reaching up to kiss him while he takes the baby from me.

"I'll hold her while you explore, and you're more than welcome, my darling," he replies, smiling as I begin to do just as he suggests, explore. I just can't believe this surprise, I'm completely thrilled. The first thing I see I automatically and selflessly plan on sharing with Sookie, since I know she likes a good, dry Chablis, and this is a 2002 bottle, so it'll be gorgeous. I then take in various reds, Bordeaux's, Rhone's, Burgundy's and Chianti's, one bottle dating back to 1992, making me shudder to think of the value. Then again, since we have a joint account I now know the full extent of Eric's wealth. He's up there with the oil barons and sheikh's, let's just put it that way. He isn't overly flash with it though, he keeps his true worth very much hush hush.

"I'm going to thank you for this for as many hours as I can later, you mark my words," I tell him, turning and giving him a wink he returns, fangs popping out in approval of my idea.

"I'll hold you to that, so you better go and eat something because I mean it, I expect that thanks to commence as soon as Milla goes to sleep." He replies before I continue browsing my huge collection of wines. I doubt I'll need to buy a bottle for the next few years with all of this. Not all of them are of vintage age, there are a few modern bottles, some of the necks of which are marked with tags, Eric explaining that those are the ones he was advised would be best to keep resting for a few years. Just as we're exiting the basement after seeing past my little wine cellar area, Eric gets a call on the cell that's linked to Quentin Rothman's, passing me Milla just before we climb the stairs again.

While he sits in the lounge to listen to the bugged line, Milla and I head into the kitchen so I can prepare her a feed and me some gnocchi I intend on eating with rocket and blue cheese. I ate the dish when Eric took me out for dinner last week while my parents looked after Milla, and this stuff takes so little time to cook I thought attempting it would be quite easy. I thought right since just over five minutes later I'm eating it while feeding Milla, something I can just about do one handed when I sit down and prop her up on my crossed leg, the arm her head rests against the one I hold the bottle with in a slightly bent position.

"Well, that was interesting," Eric says when he comes into the kitchen ten minutes later, taking Milla from me to feed her so I can eat properly, something I thank him for. I make a face that he should continue while taking another mouthful of gnocchi, the peppery rocket tingling on my tongue.

"That was Aiko himself calling his aide. He says he isn't satisfied with Quentin's lack of information and that he'll find more reasons to visit me here rather than the club, so he can see how you behave at home, so he said, and that I still didn't cut it with him, he said there's something about me he just doesn't trust. The more I hear of this, the more I have to consider the fact that he seems more interested over your welfare than wanting to harm that himself, and that just doesn't make sense. Not with whom his maker is. I need to unravel this, but he's working faster than me, and what's worse is I can't fucking stop him either. I can't refuse my king's request to meet me in my home without looking suspicious, which means he can get all the access to you that he likes. This is pissing me off." He replies at length, frowning. I put my dinner down and get up to hug his arm, stroking his face and kissing his forehead when he leans to my level. It's all I can think to do at hearing that. I feel like those people do who are stuck in the middle of a tornado zone, and they can see it coming, tearing up everything in it's path, but they can't stop it from doing exactly that to their life. That's how I feel at present, like Aiko Matsukata is the tornado about to come and tear up our lives.


End file.
